GREAT  SEA  STORIES 


EDITED  BY 
JOSEPH  LEWIS  FRENCH 

Editor   "Great   Ghost   Stories,"    "Masterpieces   of   Mystery,"    "The   Best 
Psychic  Stories,"  etc. 


NEW  YORK 
BRENTANO'S 

PUBLISHERS 


t,:i321,  by 

ANO'-S 

rights  reserved 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Spanish  Bloodhounds  and  English  Mastiffs  ....        1 

From  "Westward  Ho!"    By  CHARLES  KINGSLEY 

The  Club-Hauling  of  the  Diomede 26 

From  "Peter  Simple."    By  CAPTAIN  FREDERICK  MARRYAT 

The  Cruise  of  the  Torch 36 

From  "Tom  Cringle's  Log."    By  MICHAEL  SCOTT 

The  Merchantman  and  the  Pirate 75 

From  "Hard  Cash."    By  CHARLES  READE 
The  Mutiny  of  the  Bounty 99 

From  "Chamber's  Miscellany."    ANONYMOUS 

The  Wreck  of  the  Royal  Caroline 129 

From  "The  Red  Rover."    By  JAMES  FENNIMORE  COOPER 

The  Capture  of  the  Great  White  Whale 145 

From  "Moby  Dick."    By  HERMAN  MELVILLE 

The  Corvette  Clay  more 181 

From  "Ninety-three."    By  VICTOR  HUGO 

The  Merchants'  Cup 203 

From  "Broken  Stowage."    By  DAVID  W.  BONE 

A  Storm  and  a  Rescue 226 

From  "The  Wreck  of  the  Grosvenor."    By  W.  CLARK  RUSSELL 

The  Sailor's  Wife 250 

From  "An  Iceland  Fisherman."    By  PIERRE  LOTI 

The  Salving  of  the  Yan-Shan 263 

From  "In  Blue  Waters."    By  H.  DE  VERB  STACPOOLE 
v 


vi  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

The  Derelict  Neptune 282 

From  "Spun  Gold."    By  MORGAN  ROBERTSON 
The  Terrible  Solomons 306 

From  "South  Sea  Tales."    By  JACK  LONDON 

El   Dorado 324 

From  "A  Tarpaulin  Muster."    By  JOHN  MASEFIELD 


FOREWORD 

THE  theme  of  the  sea  is  heroic — epic.    Since  the  first 
stirrings  of  the  imagination  of  man  the  sea  has  en- 
thralled him ;  and  since  the  dawn  of  literature  he 
has  chronicled  his  wanderings  upon  its  vast  bosom. 

It  is  one  of  the  curiosities  of  literature,  a  fact  that  old 
Isaac  Disraeli  might  have  delighted  to  linger  over,  that 
there  have  been  no  collectors  of  sea-tales ;  that  no  man  has 
ever,  as  in  the  present  instance,  dwelt  upon  the  topic  with 
the  purpose  of  gathering  some  of  the  best  work  into  a 
single  volume.  And  yet  men  have  written  of  the  sea 
since  2500  B.C.  when  an  unknown  author  set  down  on 
papyrus  his  account  of  a  struggle  with  a  sea-serpent.  This 
account,  now  in  the  British  Museum,  is  the  first  sea-story 
on  record.  Our  modern  sea-stories  begin  properly  with 
the  chronicles  of  the  early  navigators — in  many  of  which 
there  is  an  unconscious  art  that  none  of  our  modern 
masters  of  fiction  has  greatly  surpassed.  For  delightful 
reading  the  lover  of  sea  stories  is  referred  to  Best's  account 
of  Frobisher's  second  voyage  —  to  Richard  Chancellor's 
chronicle  of  the  same  period  —  to  Hakluyt,  an  immortal 
classic  —  and  to  Purchas'  "Pilgrimage." 

But  from  the  earliest  growth  of  the  art  of  fiction  the 
sea  was  frankly  accepted  as  a  stirring  theme,  comparatively 
rarely  handled  because  voyages  were  fewer  then,  and 
the  subject  still  largely  unknown.  To  the  general  reader 
it  may  seem  a  rather  astounding  fact  that  in  "Robinson 
Crusoe"  we  have  the  first  classic  of  this  period  and  in 
"Colonel  Jack"  another  classic  of  much  the  same  type. 
These  two  stories  by  the  immortal  Defoe  may  be  accepted 
as  the  foundation  of  the  sea-tale  in  literary  art. 

vii 


viii  FOREWORD 

A  century,  however,  was  to  elapse  before  the  sea-tale 
came  into  its  own.  It  was  not  until  a  generation  after 
Defoe  that  Smollett,  in  "Roderick  Random,"  again  stirred 
the  theme  into  life.  Fielding  in  his  "Voyage  to  Lisbon" 
had  given  some  account  of  a  personal  experience,  but  in 
the  general  category  it  must  be  set  down  as  simply  epi- 
sodal.  Foster's  "Voyages,"  a  translation  from  the  German 
published  in  England  at  the  beginning  of  the  third  quarter 
of  the  eighteenth  century,  a  compendium  of  monumental 
importance,  continued  the  tradition  of  Hakluyt  and 
Purchas.  By  this  time  the  sea-power  of  England  had 
become  supreme, — Britannia  ruled  the  waves,  and  a 
native  sea-literature  was  the  result.  The  sea-songs  of 
Thomas  Dibdin  and  other  writers  were  the  first  fruits  of 
this  newly  created  literary  nationalism. 

Shortly  after  the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth  century 
the  sea-writer  established  himself  with  Michael  Scott  in 
"Tom  Cringle's  Log,"  a  forgotten,  but  ever-fresh  classic. 
Then  came  Captain  Marryat,  who  was  to  the  sea  what 
Dickens  and  Thackeray  were  to  land  folk.  America,  too, 
contributed  to  this  literary  movement.  Even  before 
Marryat,  our  own  Cooper  had  essayed  the  sea  with  a 
masterly  hand,  while  in  "  Moby  Dick,"  as  in  his  other 
stories,  Herman  Melville  glorified  the  theme.  Conti- 
nental writers  like  Victor  Hugo  and  the  Hungarian, 
Maurus  Jokai,  who  had  little  personal  knowledge  of  the 
subject,  also  set  their  hands  to  tales  of  marine  adventure. 

Such  work  as  this  has  established  a  succession  which 
has  been  continuous  and  progressive  ever  since.  The  liter- 
ature of  the  sea  of  the  past  half-century  is  voluminous, 
varied  and  universally  known,  and  whether  in  the  form 
of  personal  adventure,  or  in  purely  fictional  shape,  it  has 
grown  to  be  an  art  cultivated  with  great  care  by  the  best 
contemporary  writers. 

The  noble  band  of  singers  of  the  sea,  from  the  days  of 


FOREWORD- : '-' :  •  i  i  /•'*>  ix 

the  Elizabethans  to  the  sublime  Swinburne,  belongs  to 
another  volume.  It  is  the  sincere  hope  of  the  compiler 
that  the  present  collection  offers  undisputable  evidence 
that  the  prose  tradition  has  been  fully  sustained  and  that 
the  reader  will  find  in  these  pages  living  testimony  to  the 
marvelous  interest  of  the  theme — its  virility  and  its 
beauty. 

JOSEPH  LEWIS  FRENCH. 


GREAT  SEA  STORIES 


SPANISH  BLOODHOUNDS  AND  ENGLISH 
MASTIFFS 

From  "Westward  Ho!"  BY  CHARLES  KINGSLEY 

WHEN  the  sun  leaped  up  the  next  morning,  and 
the  tropic  light  flashed  suddenly  into  the  tropic 
day,  Amyas  was  pacing  the  deck,  with  dishev- 
eled hair  and  torn  clothes,  his  eyes  red  with  rage  and 
weeping,  his  heart  full  —  how  can  I  describe  it?  Picture 
it  to  yourselves,  you  who  have  ever  lost  a  brother;  and 
you  who  have  not,  thank  God  that  you  know  nothing  of 
his  agony.  Full  of  impossible  projects,  he  strode  and 
staggered  up  and  down,  as  the  ship  thrashed  and  close- 
hauled  through  the  rolling  seas.  He  would  go  back  and 
burn  the  villa.  He  would  take  Guayra,  and  have  the  life 
of  every  man  in  it  in  return  for  his  brother's.  "  We  can 
do  it,  lads!"  he  shouted.  "  If  Drake  took  Nombre  de 
Dios,  we  can  take  La  Guayra."  And  every  voice  shouted, 
"  Yes." 

;<  We  will  have  it,  Amyas,  and  have  Frank  too,  yet," 
cried  Gary;  but  Amyas  shook  his  head.  He  knew,  and 
knew  not  why  he  knew,  that  all  the  ports  in  New  Spain 
would  never  restore  to  him  that  one  beloved  face. 

"  Yes,  he  shall  be  well  avenged.  And  look  there ! 
There  is  the  first  crop  of  our  vengeance."  And  he  point- 
ed toward  the  shore,  where  between  them  and  the  now 
distant  peaks  of  the  Silla,  three  sails  appeared,  not  five 
miles  to  windward. 

1  There  are  the  Spanish  bloodhounds  on  our  heels,  the 

i 


•  SEA.'STORIES 

same  ships  which  we  saw  yesterday  off  Guayra.  Back, 
lads,  and  welcome  them,  if  they  were  a  dozen." 

There  was  a  murmur  of  applause  from  all  around;  and 
if  any  young  heart  sank  for  a  moment  at  the  prospect 
of  fighting  three  ships  at  once,  it  was  awed  into  silence 
by  the  cheer  which  rose  from  all  the  older  men,  and  by 
Salvation  Yeo's  stentorian  voice. 

"  If  there  were  a  dozen,  the  Lord  is  with  us,  who  has 
said,  *  One  of  you  shall  chase  a  thousand.'  Clear  away, 
lads,  and  see  the  glory  of  the  Lord  this  day." 

"  Amen !"  cried  Cary;  and  the  ship  was  kept  still  closer 
to  the  wind. 

Amyas  had  revived  at  the  sight  of  battle.  He  no 
longer  felt  his  wounds  or  his  great  sorrow  as  he  bustled 
about  the  deck;  and  ere  a  quarter  of  an  hour  had  passed, 
his  voice  cried  firmly  and  cheerfully  as  of  old  — 

"Now,  my  masters,  let  us  serve  God,  and  then  to 
breakfast,  and  after  that  clear  for  action." 

Jack  Brimblecombe  read  the  daily  prayers,  and  the 
prayers  before  a  fight  at  sea,  and  his  honest  voice  trem- 
bled, as,  in  the  Prayer  for  all  Conditions  of  Men  (in  spite 
of  Amyas's  despair),  he  added,  "  and  especially  for  our 
dear  brother  Mr.  Francis  Leigh,  perhaps  captive  among 
the  idolaters;"  and  so  they  rose. 

"  Now,  then,"  said  Amyas,  "  to  breakfast.  A  French- 
man fights  best  fasting,  a  Dutchman  drunk,  an  English- 
man full,  and  a  Spaniard  when  the  devil  is  in  him,  and 
that's  always." 

"  And  good  beef  and  the  good  cause  are  a  match  for 
the  devil,"  said  Cary.  "  Come  down,  captain;  you  must 
eat  too." 

Amyas  shook  his  head,  took  the  tiller  from  the  steers- 
man, and  bade  him  go  below  and  fill  himself.  Will  Cary 
went  down,  and  returned  in  five  minutes  with  a  plate  of 
bread  and  beef,  and  a  great  jack  of  ale,  coaxed  them  down 


BLOODHOUNDS  AND  MASTIFFS 

Amyas's  throat,  as  a  nurse  does  with  a  child,  and  then 
scuttled  below  again  with  tears  hopping  down  his  face. 

Amyas  stood  still  steering.  His  face  was  grown  seven 
years  older  in  the  last  night.  A  terrible  set  calm  was  on 
him.  Woe  to  the  man  who  came  across  him  that  day ! 

"  There  are  three  of  them,  you  see,  my  masters,"  said 
he,  as  the  crew  came  on  deck  again.  "  A  big  ship  for- 
ward, and  two  galleys  astern  of  her.  The  big  ship  may 
keep;  she  is  a  race  ship,  and  if  we  can  but  recover  the 
wind  of  her,  we  will  see  whether  our  height  is  not  a  match 
for  her  length.  We  must  give  her  the  slip,  and  take  the 
galleys  first." 

"  I  thank  the  Lord,"  said  Yeo,  "  who  has  given  so 
wise  a  heart  to  so  young  a  general;  a  very  David  and 
Daniel,  saving  his  presence,  lads.  Silas  Staveley,  smite 
me  that  boy  over  the  head,  the  young  monkey;  why  is 
he  not  down  at  the  powder-room  door?" 

And  Yeo  went  about  his  gunnery,  as  one  who  knew  how 
to  do  it,  and  had  the  most  terrible  mind  to  do  it  thorough- 
ly, and  the  most  terrible  faith  that  it  was  God's  work. 

So  all  fell  to;  and  though  there  was  comparatively 
little  to  be  done,  the  ship  having  been  kept  as  far  as  could 
be  in  fighting  order  all  night,  yet  there  was  "  clearing  of 
decks,  lacing  of  nettings,  making  of  bulwarks,  fitting  of 
waistcloths,  arming  of  tops,  tallowing  of  pikes,  slinging 
of  yards,  doubling  of  sheets  and  tacks."  Amyas  took 
charge  of  the  poop,  Gary  of  the  forecastle,  and  Yeo,  as 
gunner,  of  the  main-deck,  while  Drew,  as  master,  settled 
himself  in  the  waist;  and  all  was  ready,  and  more  than 
ready,  before  the  great  ship  was  within  two  miles  of 
them. 

She  is  now  within  two  musket-shots  of  the  Rose,  with 
the  golden  flag  of  Spain  floating  at  her  poop;  and  her 
trumpets  are  shouting  defiance  up  the  breeze,  from  a 
dozen  brazen  throats,  which  two  or  three  answer  lustily 


4  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

from  the  Rose,  from  whose  poop  flies  the  flag  of  England, 
and  from  her  fore  the  arms  of  Leigh  and  Gary  side  by 
side,  and  over  them  the  ship  and  bridge  of  the  good  town 
of  Bideford.  And  then  Amyas  calls  — 

11  Now,  silence  trumpets,  waits,  play  up !  *  Fortune 
my  foe!7  and  God  and  the  Queen  be  with  us!" 

Whereon  (laugh  not,  reader,  for  it  was  the  fashion 
of  those  musical,  as  well  as  valiant  days)  up  rose  that 
noble  old  favorite  of  good  Queen  Bess,  from  cornet  and 
sackbut,  fife  and  drum;  while  Parson  Jack,  who  had  taken 
his  stand  with  the  musicians  on  the  poop,  worked  away 
lustily  at  his  violin. 

"  Well  played,  Jack;  thy  elbow  flies  like  a  lamb's  tail," 
said  Amyas,  forcing  a  jest. 

"  It  shall  fly  to  a  better  fiddle-bow  presently,  sir,  and 
I  have  the  luck  —  " 

"Steady,  helm!"  said  Amyas.  "What  is  he  after 
now?" 

The  Spaniard,  who  had  been  coming  upon  them  right 
down  the  wind  under  a  press  of  sail,  took  in  his  light 
canvas. 

"  He  don't  know  what  to  make  of  our  waiting  for  him 
so  bold,"  said  the  helmsman. 

"  He  does  though,  and  means  to  fight  us,"  cried  an- 
other. "  See,  he  is  hauling  up  the  foot  of  his  mainsail: 
but  he  wants  to  keep  the  wind  of  us." 

"  Let  him  try,  then,"  quoth  Amyas.  "  Keep  her  closer 
still.  Let  no  one  fire  till  we  are  about.  Man  the  star- 
board guns;  to  starboard,  and  wait,  all  small  arm  men. 
Pass  the  order  down  to  the  gunner,  and  bid  all  fire  high, 
and  take  the  rigging." 

Bang  went  one  of  the  Spaniard's  bow  guns,  and  the 
shot  went  wide.  Then  another  and  another,  while  the 
men  fidgeted  about,  looking  at  the  priming  of  their 
muskets,  and  loosened  their  arrows  in  the  sheaf. 


BLOODHOUNDS  AND  MASTIFFS  5 

"  Lie  down,  men,  and  sing  a  psalm.  When  I  want 
you  I'll  call  you.  Closer  still,  if  you  can,  helmsman,  and 
we  will  try  a  short  ship  against  a  long  one.  We  can  sail 
two  points  nearer  the  wind  than  he." 

As  Amyas  had  calculated,  the  Spaniard  would  gladly 
enough  have  stood  across  the  Rose's  bows,  but  knowing 
the  English  readiness  dare  not  for  fear  of  being  raked; 
so  her  only  plan,  if  she  did  not  intend  to  shoot  past  her 
foe  down  to  leeward,  was  to  put  her  head  close  to  the 
wind,  and  wait  for  her  on  the  same  tack. 

Amyas  laughed  to  himself.  "  Hold  on  yet  awhile. 
More  ways  of  killing  a  cat  than  choking  her  with  cream. 
Drew,  there,  are  your  men  ready?" 

"  Ay,  ay,  sir!"  and  on  they  went,  closing  fast  with  the 
Spaniard,  till  within  a  pistol-shot. 

"  Ready  about !"  and  about  she  went  like  an  eel,  and 
ran  upon  the  opposite  tack  right  under  the  Spaniard's 
stern.  The  Spaniard,  astonished  at  the  quickness  of  the 
maneuver,  hesitated  a  moment,  and  then  tried  to  get 
about  also,  as  his  only  chance;  but  it  was  too  late,  and 
while  his  lumbering  length  was  still  hanging  in  the  wind's 
eye,  Amyas's  bowsprit  had  all  but  scraped  his  quarter, 
and  the  Rose  passed  slowly  across  his  stern  at  ten  yards' 
distance. 

"  Now,  then !"  roared  Amyas.  "  Fire,  and  with  a 
will!  Have  at  her,  archers:  have  at  her,  muskets  all!" 
and  in  an  instant  a  storm  of  bar  and  chain-shot,  round 
and  canister,  swept  the  proud  Don  from  stem  to  stern, 
while  through  the  white  cloud  of  smoke  the  musket-balls, 
and  the  still  deadlier  clothyard  arrows,  whistled  and 
rushed  upon  their  venomous  errand.  Down  went  the 
steersman,  and  every  soul  who  manned  the  poop.  Down 
went  the  mizzen  topmast,  in  went  the  stern-windows  and 
quarter-galleries;  and  as  the  smoke  cleared  away,  the 
golden  flag  of  Spain,  which  the  last  moment  flaunted 


6  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

above  their  heads,  hung  trailing  in  the  water.  The  ship, 
her  tiller  shot  away,  and  her  helmsman  killed,  staggered 
helplessly  a  moment,  and  then  fell  up  into  the  wind. 

'  Well   done,   men   of   Devon!"    shouted  Amyas,    as 
cheers  rent  the  welkin. 

"  She  has  struck,"  cried  some,  as  the  deafening  hur- 
rahs died  away. 

"  Not  a  bit,"  said  Amyras.  "  Hold  on,  helmsman,  and 
leave  her  to  patch  her  tackle  while  we  settle  the  galleys." 

On  they  shot  merrily,  and  long  ere  the  armada  could 
get  herself  to  rights  again,  were  two  good  miles  to  wind- 
ward, with  the  galleys  sweeping  down  fast  upon  them. 

And  two  venomous-looking  craft  they  were,  as  they 
shot  through  the  short  chopping  sea  upon  some  forty  oars 
apiece,  stretching  their  long  sword-fish  snouts  over  the 
water,  as  if  snuffing  for  their  prey.  Behind  this  long 
snout,  a  strong  square  forecastle  was  crammed  with  sol- 
diers, and  the  muzzles  of  cannon  grinned  out  through 
port-holes,  not  only  in  the  sides  of  the  forecastle,  but 
forward  in  the  line  of  the  galley's  course,  thus  enabling 
her  to  keep  up  a  continual  fire  on  a  ship  right  ahead. 

The  long  low  waist  was  packed  full  of  the  slaves,  some 
five  or  six  to  each  oar,  and  down  the  center,  between  the 
two  banks,  the  English  could  see  the  slave-drivers  walk- 
ing up  and  down  a  long  gangway,  whip  in  hand.  A  raised 
quarter-deck  at  the  stern  held  more  soldiers,  the  sunlight 
flashing  merrily  upon  their  armor  and  their  gun-barrels; 
as  they  neared,  the  English  could  hear  plainly  the  cracks 
of  the  whips,  and  the  yells  as  of  wild  beasts  which  an- 
swered them ;  the  roll  and  rattle  of  the  oars,  and  the  loud 
"  Ha  I"  of  the  slaves  which  accompanied  every  stroke, 
and  the  oaths  and  curses  of  the  drivers;  while  a  sickening 
musky  smell,  as  of  a  pack  of  kenneled  hounds,  came  down 
the  wind  from  off  those  dens  of  misery.  No  wonder  if 
many  a  young  heart  shuddered  as  it  faced,  for  the  first 


BLOODHOUNDS  AND  MASTIFFS  7 

time,  the  horrible  reality  of  those  floating  hells,  the  cruel- 
ties whereof  had  rung  so  often  in  English  ears  from  the 
stories  of  their  own  countrymen,  who  had  passed  them, 
fought  them,  and  now  and  then  passed  years  of  misery 
on  board  of  them.  Who  knew  but  what  there  might  be 
English  among  those  sun-browned,  half-naked  masses  of 
panting  wretches? 

"  Must  we  fire  upon  the  slaves?"  asked  more  than  one, 
as  the  thought  crossed  him. 

Amyas  sighed. 

"  Spare  them  all  you  can,  in  God's  name :  but  if  they 
try  to  run  us  down,  rake  them  we  must,  and  God  forgive 


us." 


The  two  galleys  came  on  abreast  of  each  other,  some 
forty  yards  apart.  To  out-maneuver  their  oars  as  he  had 
done  the  ship's  sails,  Amyas  knew  was  impossible.  To 
run  from  them  was  to  be  caught  between  them  and  the 
ship. 

He  made  up  his  mind,  as  usual,  to  the  desperate  game. 

"  Lay  her  head  up  in  the  wind,  helmsman,  and  we  will 
wait  for  them." 

They  were  now  within  musket-shot,  and  opened  fire 
from  their  bow-guns;  but,  owing  to  the  chopping  sea, 
their  aim  was  wild.  Amyas,  as  usual,  withheld  his  fire. 

The  men  stood  at  quarters  with  compressed  lips,  not 
knowing  what  was  to  come  next.  Amyas,  towering  mo- 
tionless on  the  quarter-deck,  gave  his  orders  calmly  and 
decisively.  The  men  saw  that  he  trusted  himself,  and 
trusted  him  accordingly. 

The  Spaniards,  seeing  him  wait  for  them,  gave  a  shout 
of  joy  —  was  the  Englishman  mad?  And  the  two  gal- 
leys converged  rapidly,  intending  to  strike  him  full,  one 
on  each  bow. 

They  were  within  forty  yards  —  another  minute,  and 
the  shock  would  come.  The  Englishman's  helm  went  up, 


8  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

his  yards  creaked  round,  and  gathering  way,  he  plunged 
upon  the  larboard  galley. 

"  A  dozen  gold  nobles  to  him  who  brings  down  the 
steersman!"  shouted  Gary,  who  had  his  cue. 

And  a  flight  of  arrows  from  the  forecastle  rattled  upon 
the  galley's  quarter-deck. 

Hit  or  not  hit,  the  steersman  lost  his  nerve,  and 
shrank  from  the  coming  shock.  The  galley's  helm  went 
up  to  port,  and  her  beak  slid  all  but  harmless  along 
Amyas's  bow;  a  long  dull  grind,  and  then  loud  crack  on 
crack,  as  the  Rose  sawed  slowly  through  the  bank  of  oars 
from  stem  to  stern,  hurling  the  wretched  slaves  in  heaps 
upon  each  other ;  and  ere  her  mate  on  the  other  side  could 
swing  round  to  strike  him  in  his  new  position,  Amyas's 
whole  broadside,  great  and  small,  had  been  poured  into 
her  at  pistol-shot,  answered  by  a  yell  which  rent  their 
ears  and  hearts. 

"Spare  the  slaves!  Fire  at  the  soldiers!"  cried 
Amyas;  but  the  work  was  too  hot  for  much  discrimina- 
tion; for  the  larboard  galley,  crippled  but  not  undaunted, 
swung  round  across  his  stern,  and  hooked  herself  venom- 
ously on  to  him. 

It  was  a  move  more  brave  than  wise ;  for  it  prevented 
the  other  galley  from  returning  to  the  attack  without  ex- 
posing herself  a  second  time  to  the  English  broadside; 
and  a  desperate  attempt  of  the  Spaniards  to  board  at 
once  through  the  stern-ports  and  up  the  quarter  was  met 
with  such  a  demurrer  of  shot  and  steel  that  they  found 
themselves  in  three  minutes  again  upon  the  galley's  poop, 
accompanied,  to  their  intense  disgust,  by  Amyas  Leigh 
and  twenty  English  swords. 

Five  minutes'  hard  cutting,  hand  to  hand,  and  the  poop 
was  clear.  The  soldiers  in  the  forecastle  had  been  able 
to  give  them  no  assistance,  open  as  they  lay  to  the  arrows 
and  musketry  from  the  Rose's  lofty  stern.  Amyas  rushed 


BLOODHOUNDS  AND  MASTIFFS  9 

along  the  central  gangway,  shouting  in  Spanish, 
"Freedom  to  the  slaves!  death  to  the  masters!"  clam- 
bered into  the  forecastle,  followed  close  by  his  swarm  of 
wasps,  and  set  them  so  good  an  example  how  to  use  their 
stings  that  in  three  minutes  more  there  was  not  a  Span- 
iard on  board  who  was  not  dead  or  dying. 

"  Let  the  slaves  free !"  shouted  he.  '  Throw  us  a 
hammer  down,  men.  Hark !  there's  an  English  voice !" 

There  is  indeed.  From  amid  the  wreck  of  broken  oars 
and  writhing  limbs,  a  voice  is  shrieking  in  broadest  Devon 
to  the  master,  who  is  looking  over  the  side. 

"  Oh,  Robert  Drew!  Robert  Drew!  Come  down, 
and  take  me  out  of  hell  !" 

"  Who  be  you,  in  the  name  of  the  Lord?" 

"  Don't  you  mind  William  Prust,  that  Captain 
Hawkins  left  behind  in  the  Honduras,  years  and  years 
agone?  There's  nine  of  us  aboard,  if  your  shot  hasn't 
put  'em  out  of  their  misery.  Come  down,  if  you've  a 
Christian  heart,  come  down!" 

Utterly  forgetful  of  all  discipline,  Drew  leaps  down 
hammer  in  hand,  and  the  two  old  comrades  rush  into  each 
other's  arms, 

Why  make  a  long  story  of  .what  took  but  five  min- 
utes to  do?  The  nine  men  (luckily  none  of  them  wound- 
ed) are  freed,  and  helped  on  board,  to  be  hugged  and 
kissed  by  old  comrades  and  young  kinsmen;  while  the 
remaining  slaves,  furnished  with  a  couple  of  hammers, 
are  told  to  free  themselves  and  help  the  English.  The 
wretches  answer  by  a  shout;  and  Amyas,  once  more  safe 
on  board  again,  dashes  after  the  other  galley,  which  has 
been  hovering  out  of  reach  of  his  guns :  but  there  is  no 
need  to  trouble  himself  about  her;  sickened  with  what 
she  has  got,  she  is  struggling  right  up  wind,  leaning  over 
to  one  side,  and  seemingly  ready  to  sink. 


10  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

"  Are  there  any  English  on  board  of  her?"  asks  Amyas, 
loth  to  lose  the  chance  of  freeing  a  countryman. 

u  Never  a  one,  sir,  thank  God." 

So  they  set  to  work  to  repair  damages;  while  the  lib- 
erated slaves,  having  shifted  some  of  the  galley's  oars, 
pull  away  after  their  comrade;  and  that  with  such  a  will 
that  in  ten  minutes  they  have  caught  her  up,  and  careless 
of  the  Spaniard's  fire,  boarded  her  en  masse,  with  yells 
as  of  a  thousand  wolves.  There  will  be  fearful  vengeance 
taken  on  those  tyrants,  unless  they  play  the  man  this 
day. 

And  in  the  meanwhile  half  the  crew  are  clothing,  feed- 
ing, questioning,  caressing  those  nine  poor  fellows  thus 
snatched  from  living  death ;  and  Yeo,  hearing  the  news, 
has  rushed  up  on  deck  to  welcome  his  old  comrades, 
and  — 

"Is  Michael  Heard,  my  cousin,  here  among  you?" 

Yes,  Michael  Heard  is  there,  white-headed  rather 
from  misery  than  age;  and  the  embracings  and  question- 
ings begin  afresh. 

"Where  is  my  wife,  Salvation  Yeo?" 

"With  the  Lord." 

"Amen !"  says  the  old  man,  with  a  short  shudder.  "I 
thought  so  much;  and  my  two  boys?" 

"With  the  Lord." 

The  old  man  catches  Yeo  by  the  arm. 

"How,  then?"     It  is  Yeo's  turn  to  shudder  now. 

"Killed  in  Panama,  fighting  the  Spaniards;  sailing  with 
Mr.  Oxeham;  and  'twas  I  led  'em  into  it.  May  God  and 
you  forgive  me !" 

"They  couldn't  die  better,  cousin  Yeo." 

The  old  man  covers  his  face  with  his  hands  for  a  while. 

"Well,  I've  been  alone  with  the  Lord  these  fifteen 
years,  so  I  must  not  whine  at  being  alone  awhile  longer — 
'twon't  be  long." 


BLOODHOUNDS  AND  MASTIFFS          11 

"Put  this  coat  on  your  back,  uncle,"  says  some  one. 

uNo;  no  coats  for  me.  Naked  came  I  into  the  world, 
and  naked  I  go  out  of  it  this  day,  if  I  have  a  chance. 
You'm  better  go  to  your  work,  lads,  or  the  big  one  will 
have  the  wind  of  us  yet." 

"So  she  will,"  said  Amyas,  who  had  overheard;  but  so 
great  is  the  curiosity  of  all  hands  that  he  has  some 
trouble  in  getting  the  men  to  quarters  again;  indeed,  they 
only  go  on  condition  of  parting  among  themselves  with 
them  the  newcomers,  each  to  tell  his  sad  and  strange 
story.  How  after  Captain  Hawkins,  constrained  by  fam- 
ine, had  put  them  ashore,  they  wandered  in  misery  till  the 
Spaniards  took  them;  how,  instead  of  hanging  them  (as 
they  at  first  intended),  the  Dons  fed  and  clothed  them, 
and  allotted  them  as  servants  to  various  gentlemen  about 
Mexico,  where  they  throve,  turned  their  hands  (like  true 
sailors)  to  all  manner  of  trades,  and  made  much  money; 
so  that  all  went  well,  until  the  fatal  year  1574,  when, 
much  against  the  minds  of  many  of  the  Spaniards  them- 
selves, that  cruel  and  bloody  Inquisition  was  established 
for  the  first  time  in  the  Indies;  and  how  from  that  mo- 
ment their  lives  were  one  long  tragedy;  how  they  were  all 
imprisoned  for  a  year  and  a  half,  racked  again  and  again, 
and  at  last  adjudged  to  receive  publicly,  on  Good  Friday, 
1575,  some  three  hundred,  some  one  hundred  stripes,  and 
to  serve  in  the  galleys  for  six  or  ten  years  each;  while  as 
the  crowning  atrocity  of  the  Moloch  sacrifice,  three  of 
them  were  burnt  alive  in  the  market-place  of  Mexico. 

The  history  of  the  party  was  not  likely  to  improve  the 
good  feeling  of  the  crew  towards  the  Spanish  ship  which 
was  two  miles  to  leeward  of  them,  and  which  must  be 
fought  with,  or  fled  from,  before  a  quarter  of  an  hour 
was  past.  So,  kneeling  down  upon  the  deck,  as  many  a 
brave  crew  in  those  days  did  in  like  case,  they  "gave  God 
thanks  devoutly  for  the  favor  they  had  found,"  and  then 


12  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

with  one  accord,  at  Jack's  leading,  sang  one  and  all  the 
ninety-fourth  Psalm : 

"Oh,  Lord,  thou  dost  revenge  all  wrong; 
Vengeance  belongs  to  thee,"  etc. 

And  then  again  to  quarters;  for  half  the  day's  work,  or 
more  than  half,  still  remained  to  be  done;  and  hardly 
were  the  decks  cleared  afresh,  and  the  damage  repaired 
as  best  it  could  be,  when  she  came  ranging  up  to  leeward, 
as  closehauled  as  she  could. 

She  was,  as  I  said,  a  long  flushed-decked  ship  of  full 
five  hundred  tons,  more  than  double  the  size,  in  fact,  of  he 
Rose,  though  not  so  lofty  in  proportion;  and  many  a  bold 
heart  beat  loud,  and  no  shame  to  them,  as  she  began  firing 
away  merrily,  determined,  as  all  well  knew,  to  wipe  out 
in  English  blood  the  disgrace  of  her  late  foil. 

"Never  mind,  my  merry  masters,"  said  Amyas,  "she 
has  quantity  and  we  quality." 

"That's  true,"  said  one,  "for  one  honest  man  is  worth 
two  rogues." 

"And  one  culverin  three  of  their  footy  little  ordnance," 
said  another.  "So  when  you  will,  captain,  and  have  at 
her." 

"Let  her  come  abreast  of  us,  and  don't  burn  powder. 
We  have  the  wind,  and  can  do  what  we  like  with  her. 
Serve  the  men  out  a  horn  of  ale  all  round,  steward,  and  all 
take  your  time." 

So  they  waited  five  minutes  more,  and  then  set  to  work 
quietly,  after  the  fashion  of  English  mastiffs,  though,  like 
those  mastiffs,  they  waxed  right  mad  before  three  rounds 
were  fired,  and  the  white  splinters  (sight  beloved)  be- 
gan to  crackle  and  fly. 

Amyas,  having,  as  he  had  said,  the  wind,  and  being 
able  to  go  nearer  it  than  the  Spaniard,  kept  his  place  at 


BLOODHOUNDS  AND  MASTIFFS          13 

easy  point-blank  range  for  his  two-eighteen-pounder  cul- 
verins,  which  Yeo  and  his  mate  worked  with  terrible  ef- 
fect. 

"We  are  lacking  her  through  and  through  every  shot," 
said  he.  "Leave  the  small  ordnance  alone  yet  awhile,  and 
we  shall  sink  her  without  them." 

"Whing,  whing,"  went  the  Spaniard's  shot,  like  so 
many  humming-tops,  through  the  rigging  far  above  their 
heads;  for  the  ill-constructed  ports  of  those  days  pre- 
vented the  guns  from  hulling  an  enemy  who  was  to  wind- 
ward, unless  close  alongside. 

"Blow,  jolly  breeze,"  cried  one,  "and  lay  the  Don  over 
all  thou  canst. — What  the  murrain  is  gone,  aloft  there?" 

Alas!  a  crack,  a  flap,  a  rattle;  and  blank  dismay!  An 
unlucky  shot  had  cut  the  foremast  (already  wounded)  in 
two,  and  all  forward  was  a  mass  of  dangling  wreck. 

"Forward,  and  cut  away  the  wreck!"  said  Amyas,  un- 
moved. "Small  arm  men,  be  ready.  He  will  be  aboard 
of  us  in  five  minutes !" 

It  was  true.  The  Rose,  unmanageable  from  the  loss  of 
her  head-sail,  lay  at  the  mercy  of  the  Spaniard;  and  the 
archers  and  musqueteers  had  hardly  time  to  range  them- 
selves to  leeward,  when  the  Madre  Dolorosa's  chains 
were  grinding  against  the  Rose's,  and  grapples  tossed  on 
board  from  stem  to  stern. 

"Don't  cut  them  loose!"  roared  Amyas.  "Let  them 
stay  and  see  the  fun !  Now,  dogs  of  Devon,  show  your 
teeth,  and  hurrah  for  God  and  the  Queen!" 

And  then  began  a  fight  most  fierce  and  fell :  the  Span- 
iards, according  to  their  fashion,  attempted  to  board :  the 
English,  amid  fierce  shouts  of  "God  and  the  Queen!" 
"God  and  St.  George  for  England !"  sweeping  them  back 
by  showers  of  arrows  and  musquet  balls,  thrusting  them 
down  with  pikes,  hurling  grenades  and  stink-pots  from 
the  tops;  while  the  swivels  on  both  sides  poured  their 


14  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

grape,  and  bar,  and  chain,  and  the  great  main-deck  guns, 
thundering  muzzle  to  muzzle,  made  both  ships  quiver 
and  recoil,  as  they  smashed  the  round  shot  through  and 
through  each  other. 

So  they  roared  and  flashed,  fast  clenched  to  each  other 
in  that  devil's  wedlock,  under  a  cloud  of  smoke  beneath 
the  cloudless  tropic  sky;  while  all  around,  the  dolphins 
gamboled,  and  the  flying-fish  shot  on  from  swell  to  swell, 
and  the  rainbow-hued  jellies  opened  and  shut  their  cups 
of  living  crystal  to  the  sun. 

So  it  raged  for  an  hour  or  more,  till  all  arms  were 
weary,  and  all  tongues  clove  to  the  mouth.  And  sick 
men,  rotting  with  scurvy,  scrambled  up  on  deck,  and 
fought  with  the  strength  of  madness:  and  tiny  powder- 
boys,  handing  up  cartridges  from  the  hold,  laughed  and 
cheered  as  the  shots  ran  past  their  ears;  and  old  Salvation 
Yeo,  a  text  upon  his  lips,  and  a  fury  in  his  heart  as  of 
Joshua  or  Elijah  in  old  time,  worked  on,  calm  and  grim, 
but  with  the  energy  of  a  boy  at  play.  And  now  and 
then  an  opening  in  the  smoke  showed  the  Spanish  cap- 
tain, in  his  suit  of  black  steel  armor,  standing  cool  and 
proud,  guiding  and  pointing,  careless  of  the  iron  hail, 
but  too  lofty  a  gentleman  to  soil  his  glove  with  aught 
but  a  knightly  sword-hilt :  while  Amyas  and  Will,  after 
the  fashion  of  the  English  gentlemen,  had  stripped  them- 
selves nearly  as  bare  as  their  own  sailors,  and  were  cheer- 
ing, thrusting,  hewing,  and  hauling,  here,  there,  and 
everywhere,  like  any  common  mariner,  and  filling  them 
with  a  spirit  of  self-respect,  fellow-feeling,  and  personal 
daring,  which  the  discipline  of  the  Spaniards,  more  per- 
fect mechanically,  but  cold  and  tyrannous,  and  crushing 
spiritually,  never  could  bestow.  The  black-plumed  Serior 
was  obeyed;  but  the  golden-locked  Amyas  was  followed, 
and  would  have  been  followed  through  the  jaws  of  hell. 

The  Spaniards,  ere  five  minutes  had  passed,  poured 


BLOODHOUNDS  AND  MASTIFFS          15 

en  masse  into  the  Rose's  waist:  but  only  to  their  de- 
struction. Between  the  poop  and  forecastle  (as  was 
then  the  fashion)  the  upper-deck  beams  were  left  open 
and  unplanked,  with  the  exception  of  a  narrow  gangway 
on  either  side;  and  off  that  fatal  ledge  the  boarders, 
thrust  on  by  those  behind,  fell  headlong  between  the 
beams  to  the  main-deck  below,  to  be  slaughtered  helpless 
in  that  pit  of  destruction,  by  the  double  fire  from  the 
bulkheads  fore  and  aft;  while  the  few  who  kept  their 
footing  on  the  gangway,  after  vain  attempts  to  force  the 
stockades  on  poop  and  forecastle,  leaped  overboard  again 
amid  a  shower  of  shot  and  arrows.  The  fire  of  the 
English  was  as  steady  as  it  was  quick. 

Thrice  the  Spaniards  clambered  on  board,  and  thrice 
surged  back  before  that  deadly  hail.  The  decks  on  both 
sides  were  very  shambles;  and  Jack  Brimblecombe,  who 
had  fought  as  long  as  his  conscience  would  allow  him, 
found,  when  he  turned  to  a  more  clerical  occupation, 
enough  to  do  in  carrying  poor  wretches  to  the  surgeon, 
without  giving  that  spiritual  consolation  which  he  longed 
to  give,  and  they  to  receive.  At  last  there  was  a  lull  in 
that  wild  storm.  No  shot  was  heard  from  the  Spaniard's 
upper-deck. 

Amyas  leaped  into  the  mizzen  rigging  and  looked 
through  the  smoke.  Dead  men  he  could  descry  through 
the  blinding  veil,  rolled  in  heaps,  laid  flat;  dead  men  and 
dying;  but  no  man  upon  his  feet.  The  last  volley  had 
swept  the  deck  clear;  one  by  one  had  dropped  below  to 
escape  that  fiery  shower :  and  alone  at  the  helm,  grinding 
his  teeth  with  rage,  his  mustachios  curling  up  to  his 
very  eyes,  stood  the  Spanish  captain. 

Now  was  the  moment  for  a  counter  stroke.  Amyas 
shouted  for  the  boarders,  and  in  two  minutes  more  he 
was  over  the  side,  and  clutching  at  the  Spaniard's  mizzen 
rigging. 


16  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

What  was  this?  The  distance  between  him  and  the 
enemy's  side  was  widening.  Was  she  sheering  off?  Yes 
— and  rising,  too,  growing  bodily  higher  every  moment, 
as  if  by  magic.  Amyas  looked  up  in  astonishment  and 
saw  what  it  was.  The  Spaniard  was  heeling  fast  over 
to  leeward  away  from  him.  Her  masts  were  all  sloping 
forward,  swifter  and  swifter — the  end  was  come,  then ! 

"Back!  in  God's  name  back,  men!  She  is  sinking  by 
the  head !"  And  with  much  ado  some  were  dragged  back, 
some  leaped  back — all  but  old  Michael  Heard. 

With  hair  and  beard  floating  in  the  wind,  the  bronzed 
naked  figure,  like  some  weird  old  Indian  fakir,  still 
climbed  on  steadfastly  up  the  mizzen-chains  of  the  Span- 
iard, hatchet  in  hand. 

"Come  back,  Michael !  Leap  while  you  may !"  shouted 
a  dozen  voices.  Michael  turned — 

"And  what  should  I  come  back  for,  then,  to  go  home 
where  no  one  knoweth  me?  I'll  die  like  an  Englishman 
this  day,  or  I'll  know  the  reason  why!"  and  turning,  he 
sprang  in  over  the  bulwarks,  as  the  huge  ship  rolled  up 
more  and  more,  like  a  dying  whale,  exposing  all  her 
long  black  hulk  almost  down  to  the  keel,  and  one  of  her 
lower-deck  guns  as  if  in  defiance  exploded  upright  into 
the  air,  hurling  the  ball  to  the  very  heavens. 

In  an  instant  it  was  answered  from  the  Rose  by  a 
column  of  smoke,  and  the  eighteen-pound  ball  crashed 
through  the  bottom  of  the  defenseless  Spaniard. 

"Who  fired!     Shame  to  fire  on  a  sinking  ship!" 

"Gunner  Yeo,  sir,"  shouted  a  voice  from  the  main- 
deck.  "He's  like  a  madman  down  here." 

"Tell  him  if  he  fires  again,  I'll  put  him  in  irons,  if  he 
were  my  own  brother.  Cut  away  the  grapples  aloft,  men. 
Don't  you  see  how  she  drags  us  over?  Cut  away,  or  we 
shall  sink  with  her." 

They  cut  away,  and  the  Rose,  released  from  the  strain, 


BLOODHOUNDS  AND  MASTIFFS          17 

shook  her  feathers  on  the  wave-crest  like  a  freed  sea- 
gull, while  all  men  held  their  breaths. 

Suddenly  the  glorious  creature  righted  herself,  and 
rose  again,  as  if  in  noble  shame,  for  one  last  struggle 
with  her  doom.  Her  bows  were  deep  in  the  water,  but 
her  after-deck  still  dry.  Righted :  but  only  for  a  moment, 
long  enough  to  let  her  crew  come  pouring  wildly  up  on 
deck,  with  cries  and  prayers,  and  rush  aft  to  the  poop, 
where,  under  the  flag  of  Spain,  stood  the  tall  captain,  his 
left  hand  on  the  standard-staff,  his  sword  pointed  in  his 
right. 

"Back  men !"  they  heard  him  cry,   "and  die  like  valiant 


mariners." 


Some  of  them  ran  to  the  bulwarks,  and  shouted 
"Mercy!  We  surrender!"  and  the  English  broke  into 
a  cheer  and  called  to  them  to  run  her  alongside. 

"Silence  !"  shouted  Amyas.  "I  take  no  surrender  from 
mutineers.  Sefior,"  cried  he  to  the  captain,  springing 
into  the  rigging  and  taking  off  his  hat,  "for  the  love  of 
God  and  these  men,  strike!  and  surrender  a  buena 
guerra" 

The  Spaniard  lifted  his  hat  and  bowed  courteously, 
and  answered.  "Impossible,  Senor.  No  guerra  is  good 
which  stains  my  honor." 

"God  have  mercy  on  you,  then !" 

"Amen!"  said  the  Spaniard,  crossing  himself. 

She  gave  one  awful  lunge  forward,  and  dived  under 
the  coming  swell,  hurling  her  crew  into  the  eddies. 
Nothing  but  the  point  of  her  poop  remained,  and  there 
stood  the  stern  and  steadfast  Don,  cap-a-pie  in  his  glis- 
tening black  armor,  immovable  as  a  man  of  iron,  while 
over  him  the  flag,  which  claimed  the  empire  of  both 
worlds,  flaunted  its  gold  aloft  and  upwards  in  the  glare 
of  the  tropic  noon. 

"He  shall  not  carry  that  flag  to  the  devil  with  him; 


18  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

I  will  have  it  yet,  if  I  die  for  it!"  said  Will  Gary,  and 
rushed  to  the  side  to  leap  overboard,  but  Amyas  stopped 
him. 

"Let  him  die  as  he  lived,  with  honor." 

A  wild  figure  sprang  out  of  the  mass  of  sailors  who 
struggled  and  shrieked  amid  the  foam,  and  rushed  up- 
ward at  the  Spaniard.  It  was  Michael  Heard.  The 
Don,  who  stood  above  him,  plunged  his  sword  into  the 
old  man's  body:  but  the  hatchet  gleamed,  nevertheless: 
down  went  the  blade  through  the  headpiece  and  through 
head;  and  as  Heard  sprang  onward,  bleeding,  but  alive, 
the  steel-clad  corpse  rattled  down  the  deck  into  the  surge. 
Two  more  strokes,  struck  with  the  fury  of  a  dying  man, 
and  the  standard-staff  was  hewn  through.  Old  Michael 
collected  all  his  strength,  hurled  the  flag  far  from  the 
sinking  ship,  and  then  stood  erect  one  moment  and 
shouted,  uGod  save  Queen  Bess!"  and  the  English  an- 
swered with  a  "Hurrah !"  which  rent  the  welkin. 

Another  moment  and  the  gulf  had  swallowed  his  vic- 
tim, and  the  poop,  and  him;  and  nothing  remained  of 
the  Madre  Dolorosa  but  a  few  floating  spars  and  strug- 
gling wretches,  while  a  great  awe  fell  upon  all  men,  and 
a  solemn  silence,  broken  only  by  the  cry 

"Of  some  strong  swimmer  in  his  agony." 

And  then,  suddenly  collecting  themselves,  as  men 
awakened  from  a  dream,  half-a-dozen  desperate  gal- 
lants, reckless  of  sharks  and  eddies,  leaped  overboard, 
swam  towards  the  flag,  and  towed  it  alongside  in 
triumph. 

"Ah !"  said  Salvation  Yeo,  as  he  helped  the  trophy  up 
over  the  side;  "ah!  it  was  not  for  nothing  that  we  found 
poor  Michael !  He  was  always  a  good  comrade.  And 
now,  then,  my  masters,  shall  we  inshore  again  and  burn 
La  Guayra?" 


BLOODHOUNDS  AND  MASTIFFS          19 

"Art  thou  never  glutted  with  Spanish  blood,  thou  old 
wolf?"  asked  Will  Gary. 

"Never,  sir,"  answered  Yeo. 

"To  St.  Jago  be  it,"  said  Amyas,  "if  we  can  get 
there:  but — God  help  us!" 

And  he  looked  round  sadly  enough;  while  no  one 
needed  that  he  should  finish  his  sentence,  or  explain  his 
"but." 

The  /fore-mast  was  gone,  the  main-yard  sprung,  the 
rigging  hanging  in  elf-locks,  the  hull  shot  through  and 
through  in  twenty  places,  the  deck  strewn  with  the  bodies 
of  nine  good  men,  besides  sixteen  wounded  down  below; 
while  the  pitiless  sun,  right  above  their  heads,  poured 
down  a  flood  of  fire  upon  a  sea  of  glass. 

And  it  would  have  been  well  if  f  aintness  and  weariness 
had  been  all  that  was  the  matter ;  but  now  that  the  excite- 
ment was  over,  the  collapse  came ;  and  the  men  sat  down 
listlessly  and  sulkily  by  twos  and  threes  upon  the  deck, 
starting  and  wincing  when  they  heard  some  poor  fellow 
below  cry  out  under  the  surgeon's  knife;  or  murmuring 
to  each  other  that  all  was  lost.  Drew  tried  in  vain  to 
rouse  them,  telling  them  that  all  depended  on  rigging  a 
jury-mast  forward  as  soon  as  possible.  They  answered 
only  by  growls;  and  at  last  broke  into  open  reproaches. 
Even  Will  Gary's  volatile  nature,  which  had  kept  him 
up  during  the  fight  gave  way,  when  Yeo  and  the  carpenter 
came  aft,  and  told  Amyas  in  a  low  voice — 

"We  are  hit  somewhere  forward,  below  the  water- 
line,  sir.  She  leaks  a  terrible  deal,  and  the  Lord  will  not 
vouchsafe  to  us  to  lay  our  hands  on  the  place,  for  all  our 
searching." 

"What  are  we  to  do  now,  Amyas,  in  the  devil's  name  ?" 
asked  Gary,  peevishly. 

"What  are  we  to  do,  in  God's  name,  rather,"  answered 
Amyas  in  a  low  voice.  "Will,  Will,  what  did  God  make 


20  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

you  a  gentleman  for,  but  to  know  better  than  those  poor 
fickle  fellows  forward,  who  blow  hot  and  cold  at  every 
change  of  weather !" 

"I  wish  you'd  come  forward  and  speak  to  them,  sir," 
said  Yeo,  who  had  overheard  the  last  words,  "or  we 
shall  get  nought  done." 

Amyas  went  forward  instantly. 

"Now  then,  my  brave  lads,  what's  the  matter  here, 
that  you  are  all  sitting  on  your  tails  like  monkeys?" 

"Ugh !"  grunts  one.  "Don't  you  think  our  day's  work 
has  been  long  enough  yet,  captain?" 

"You  don't  want  us  to  go  in  to  La  Guayra  again,  sir? 
There  are  enough  of  us  thrown  away  already,  I  reckon, 
about  that  wench  there." 

"Best  sit  here,  and  sink  quietly.  There's  no  getting 
home  again,  that's  plain." 

"Why  were  we  brought  out  here  to  be  killed." 

"For  shame,  men!"  cries  Yeo,  "murmuring  the  very 
minute  after  the  Lord  has  delivered  you  from  the  Egyp- 


tians." 


Now  I  do  not  wish  to  set  Amyas  up  as  better,  thank 
God,  than  many  and  many  a  brave  and  virtuous  captain 
in  her  Majesty's  service  at  this  very  day:  but  certainly 
he  behaved  admirably  under  that  trial.  Drake  had 
trained  him,  as  he  trained  many  another  excellent  officer, 
to  be  as  stout  in  discipline  and  as  dogged  of  purpose, 
as  he  himself  was:  but  he  had  trained  him  also  to  feel 
with  and  for  his  men,  to  make  allowances  for  them,  and 
to  keep  his  temper  with  them,  as  he  did  this  day.  Amyas's 
conscience  smote  him  (and  his  simple  and  pious  soul  took 
the  loss  of  his  brother  as  God's  verdict  on  his  conduct), 
because  he  had  set  his  own  private  affection,  even  his  own 
private  revenge,  before  the  safety  of  his  ship's  company 
and  the  good  of  his  country. 

"Ah,"  said  he  to  himself,  as  he  listened  to  his  men's 


BLOODHOUNDS  AND  MASTIFFS         21 

reproaches,  "if  I  had  been  thinking,  like  a  loyal  soldier, 
of  serving  my  queen,  and  crippling  the  Spaniard,  I  should 
have  taken  that  great  bark  three  days  ago,  and  in  it  the 
very  man  I  sought!" 

So  "choking  down  his  old  man,"  as  Yeo  used  to  say, 
he  made  answer  cheerfully — 

"Pooh!  pooh!  brave  lads!  For  shame,  for  shame! 
You  were  lions  half-an-hour  ago ;  you  are  not  surely  turned 
sheep  already!  Why,  but  yesterday  evening  you  were 
grumbling  because  I  would  not  run  in  and  fight  those 
three  ships  under  the  batteries  of  La  Guayra,  and  now 
you  think  it  too  much  to  have  fought  them  fairly  out 
at  sea?  Nothing  venture,  nothing  win;  and  nobody  goes 
birdnesting  without  a  fall  at  times.  If  any  one  wants  to 
be  safe  in  this  life,  he'd  best  stay  at  home  and  keep  his 
bed;  though  even  there  who  knows  but  the  roof  might 
fall  through  on  him?" 

"Ah,  it's  all  very  well  for  you,  captain,"  said  some 
grumbling  younker,  with  a  vague  notion  that  Amyas 
must  be  better  off  than  he  because  he  was  a  gentleman. 
Amyas's  blood  rose. 

"Yes,  sirrah!  Do  you  fancy  that  I  have  nothing  to 
lose?  I  who  have  adventured  in  this  voyage  all  I  am 
worth,  and  more ;  who,  if  I  fail,  must  return  to  beggary 
and  scorn?  And  if  I  have  ventured  rashly,  sinfully,  if 
you  will,  the  lives  of  any  of  you  in  my  own  private  quar- 
rel, am  I  not  punished?  Have  I  not  lost ?" 

His  voice  trembled  and  stopped  there,  but  he  recovered 
himself  in  a  moment. 

"Pish !  I  can't  stand  here  chattering.  Carpenter !  an 
ax!  and  help  me  to  cast  these  spars  loose.  Get  out  of  my 
way,  there !  lumbering  the  scuppers  up  like  so  many  moult- 
ing fowls !  Here,  all  old  friends,  lend  a  hand !  Pelican's 
men,  stand  by  your  captain !  Did  we  sail  round  the  world 
for  nothing?" 


22  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

This  last  appeal  struck  home,  and  up  leaped  half-a- 
dozen  of  the  old  Pelicans,  and  set  to  work  at  his  side 
manfully  to  rig  the  jury-mast. 

"Come  along  I"  cried  Gary  to  the  malcontents;  "we're 
raw  longshore  fellows,  but  we  won't  be  outdone  by  any 
old  sea-dog  of  them  all."  And  setting  to  work  himself, 
he  was  soon  followed  by  one  and  another,  till  order  and 
work  went  on  well  enough. 

"And  where  are  we  going,  when  the  mast's  up?" 
shouted  some  saucy  hand  from  behind. 

"Where  you  daren't  follow  us  alone  by  yourself,  so 
you  had  better  keep  us  company,"  replied  Yeo. 

"I'll  tell  you  where  we  are  going,  lads,"  said  Amyas, 
rising  from  his  work.  "Like  it  or  leave  it  as  you  will,  I 
have  no  secrets  from  my  crew.  We  are  going  inshore 
there  to  find  a  harbor,  and  careen  the  ship." 

There  was  a  start  and  a  murmur. 

"Inshore!     Into  the  Spaniards'  mouths?" 

"All  in  the  Inquisition  in  a  week's  time." 

"Better  stay  here,  and  be  drowned." 

"You're  right  in  that  last,"  shouts  Gary.  "That's  the 
right  death  for  blind  puppies.  Look  you  !  I  don't  know 
in  the  least  where  we  are,  and  I  hardly  know  stem  from 
stern  aboard  ship;  and  the  captain  may  be  right  or 
wrong — that's  nothing  to  me;  but  this  I  know,  that  I  am 
a  soldier,  and  will  obey  orders;  and  where  he  goes,  I  go; 
and  whosoever  hinders  me  must  walk  up  my  sword  to 
do  it." 

Amyas  pressed  Gary's  hand,  and  then — 

"And  here's  my  broadside  next,  men.  I'll  go  nowhere, 
and  do  nothing  without  the  advice  of  Salvation  Yeo  and 
Robert  Drew;  and  if  any  man  in  the  ship  knows  better 
than  these  two,  let  him  up,  and  we'll  give  him  a  hearing. 
Eh,  Pelicans?" 


BLOODHOUNDS  AND  MASTIFFS          23 

There  was  a  grunt  of  approbation  from  the  Pelicans; 
and  Amyas  returned  to  the  charge. 

"We  have  five  shots  between  wind  and  water,  and  one 
somewhere  below.  Can  we  face  a  gale  of  wind  in  that 
state,  or  can  we  not?" 

Silence. 

"Can  we  get  home  with  a  leak  in  our  bottom?" 

Silence. 

"Come  along  now!  Here's  the  wind  again  round  with 
the  sun,  and  up  to  the  northwest.  In  shore  with  her." 

Sulkily  enough,  but  unable  to  deny  the  necessity,  the 
men  set  to  work,  and  the  vessel's  head  was  put  toward 
the  land;  but  when  she  began  to  slip  through  the  water, 
the  leak  increased  so  fast  that  they  were  kept  hard  at 
work  at  the  pumps  for  the  rest  of  the  afternoon. 

The  current  had  by  this  time  brought  them  abreast  of 
the  bay  of  Higuerote.  As  they  ran  inward,  all  eyes  were 
strained  greedily  to  find  some  opening  in  the  mangrove 
belt :  but  none  was  to  be  seen  for  some  time.  The  lead 
was  kept  going;  and  every  fresh  heave  announced  shal- 
lower water. 

"We  shall  have  very  shoal  work  of  those  mangroves, 
Yeo,"  said  Amyas;  "I  doubt  whether  we  shall  do  aught 
now,  unless  we  find  a  river's  mouth." 

"If  the  Lord  thinks  a  river  good  for  us,  sir,  he'll  show 
us  one."  So  on  they  wrent,  keeping  a  southeast  course, 
and  at  last  an  opening  in  the  mangrove  belt  was  hailed 
with  a  cheer  from  the  older  hands,  though  the  majority 
shrugged  their  shoulders,  as  men  going  open-eyed  {  to 
destruction. 

Of  the  mouth  they  sent  in  Drew  and  Cary  with  a  boat, 
and  watched  anxiously  for  an  hour.  The  boat  returned 
with  a  good  report  of  two  fathoms  of  water  over  the  bar, 
impenetrable  forests  for  two  miles  up,  the  river  sixty 


24  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

yards  broad,  and  no  sign  of  man.  The  river's  banks  were 
soft  and  sloping  mud,  fit  for  careening. 

"Safe  quarters,  sir,"  said  Yeo,  privately,  uas  far  as 
Spaniards  go.  I  hope  in  God  it  may  be  as  safe  from 
fevers." 

"Beggars  must  not  be  choosers,"  said  Amyas.  So  in 
they  went. 

They  towed  the  ship  up  about  half-a-mile  to  a  point 
where  she  could  not  be  seen  from  the  seaward;  and  there 
moored  her  to  the  mangrove-stems.  Amyas  ordered  a 
boat  out,  and  went  up  the  river  himself  to  reconnoiter. 
He  rowed  some  three  miles,  till  the  river  narrowed  sud- 
denly, and  was  all  but  covered  in  by  the  interlacing  boughs 
of  mighty  trees.  There  was  no  sign  that  man  had  been 
there  since  the  making  of  the  world. 

He  dropped  down  the  stream  again,  thoughtfully  and 
sadly.  How  many  years  ago  was  it  that  he  had  passed 
this  river's  mouth?  Three  days.  And  yet  how  much 
had  passed  in  them !  Don  Guzman  found  and  lost — 
Rose  found  and  lost — a  great  victory  gained,  and  yet 
lost — perhaps  his  ship  lost — above  all,  his  brother  lost. 

Lost!    O  God,  how  should  he  find  his  brother? 

Some  strange  bird  out  of  the  woods  made  mournful 
answer — "Never,  never,  never !" 

How  should  he  face  his  mother  ? 

"Never,  never,  never!"  wailed  the  bird  again;  and 
Amyas  smiled  bitterly,  and  said  "Never!"  likewise. 

The  night  mist  began  to  steam  and  wreath  upon  the 
foul  beer-colored  stream.  The  loathy  floor  of  liquid 
mud  lay  bare  beneath  the  mangrove  forest.  Upon  the 
endless  web  of  interarching  roots  great  purple  crabs  were 
crawling  up  and  down.  They  would  have  supped  with 
pleasure  upon  Amyas's  corpse;  perhaps  they  might  sup 
on  him  after  all;  for  a  heavy  sickening  graveyard  smell 
made  his  heart  sink  within  him,  and  his  stomach  heave ; 


BLOODHOUNDS  AND  MASTIFFS         25 

and  his  weary  body,  and  more  weary  soul,  gave  them- 
selves up  helplessly  to  the  depressing  influence  of  that 
doleful  place.  The  black  bank  of  dingy  leathern  leaves 
above  his  head,  the  endless  labyrinth  of  stems  and  withes 
(for  every  bough  had  lowered  its  own  living  cord,  to 
take  fresh  hold  of  the  foul  soil  below)  ;  the  web  of  roots, 
which  stretched  away  inland  till  it  was  lost  in  the  shades 
of  evening — all  seemed  one  horrid  complicated  trap  for 
him  and  his;  and  even  where,  here  and  there,  he  passed 
the  mouth  of  a  lagoon,  there  was  no  opening,  no  relief — 
nothing  but  the  dark  ring  of  mangroves.  Wailing  sadly, 
sad-colored  mangrove-hens  ran  off  across  the  mud  into 
the  dreary  dark.  The  hoarse  night-raven,  hid  among 
the  roots,  startled  the  voyagers  with  a  sudden  shout,  and 
then  all  was  again  silent  as  a  grave.  The  loathy  alligators 
lounging  in  the  slime  lifted  their  horny  eyelids  lazily,  and 
leered  upon  him  as  he  passed  with  stupid  savageness. 
Lines  of  tall  herons  stood  dimly  in  the  growing  gloom, 
like  white  fantastic  ghosts,  watching  the  passage  of  the 
doomed  boat.  All  was  foul,  sullen,  weird  as  witches' 
dream.  If  Amyas  had  seen  a  crew  of  skeletons  glide 
down  the  stream  behind  him,  with  Satan  standing  at  the 
helm,  he  would  scarcely  have  been  surprised.  What 
fitter  craft  could  haunt  that  Stygian  flood? 


THE  CLUB-HAULING  OF  THE  DIOMEDE 
From  "Peter  Simple,"  BY  CAPTAIN  FREDERICK  MARRYAT 

WE  continued  our  cruise  along  the  coast,  until  we 
had  run  down  into  the  Bay  of  Arcason, 
where  we  captured  two  or  three  vessels,  and 
obliged  many  more  to  run  on  shore.  And  here  we  had 
an  instance  showing  how  very  important  it  is  that  the  cap- 
tain of  a  man-of-war  should  be  a  good  sailor,  and  have 
his  ship  in  such  discipline  as  to  be  strictly  obeyed  by  his 
ship's  company.  I  heard  the  officers  unanimously  assert, 
after  the  danger  was  over,  that  nothing  but  the  presence 
of  mind  which  was  shown  by  Captain  Savage  could  have 
saved  the  ship  and  her  crew.  We  had  chased  a  convoy 
of  vessels  to  the  bottom  of  the  bay:  the  wind  was  very 
fresh  when  we  hauled  off,  after  running  them  on  shore; 
and  the  surf  on  the  beach  even  at  that  time  was  so  great, 
that  they  were  certain  to  go  to  pieces  before  they  could 
be  got  afloat  again.  We  were  obliged  to  double-reef  the 
topsails  as  soon  as  we  hauled  to  the  wind,  and  the  weather 
looked  very  threatening.  In  an  hour  afterwards,  the  whole 
sky  was  covered  with  one  black  cloud,  which  sank  so  low 
as  nearly  to  touch  our  mast-heads,  and  a  tremendous  sea, 
which  appeared  to  have  risen  up  almost  by  magic,  rolled 
in  upon  us,  setting  the  vessel  on  a  dead  lee  shore.  As  the 
night  closed  in,  it  blew  a  dreadful  gale,  and  the  ship  was 
nearly  buried  with  the  press  of  canvas  which  she  was 
obliged  to  carry:  for  had  we  sea-room,  we  should  have 
been  lying-to  under  storm  staysails;  but  we  were  forced 
to  carry  on  at  all  risks,  that  we  might  claw  off  shore.  The 
sea  broke  over  us  as  we  lay  in  the  trough,  deluging  us  with 
water  from  the  forecastle,  aft,  to  the  binnacles;  and  very 
often  as  the  ship  descended  with  a  plunge,  it  was  with  such 

26 


CLUB-HAULING  OF  THE  DIOMEDE      27 

force  that  I  really  thought  she  would  divide  in  half  with 
the  violence  of  the  shock.  Double  breechings  were  rove 
on  the  guns,  and  they  were  further  secured  with  tackles; 
and  strong  cleats  nailed  behind  the  trunnions;  for  we 
heeled  over  so  much  when  we  lurched,  that  the  guns  were 
wholly  supported  by  the  breechings  and  tackles,  and  had 
one  of  them  broken  loose  it  must  have  burst  right  through 
the  lee  side  of  the  ship,  and  she  must  have  foundered.  The 
captain,  first  lieutenant,  and  most  of  the  officers,  remained 
on  deck  during  the  whole  of  the  night;  and  really,  what 
with  the  howling  of  the  wind,  the  violence  of  the  rain,  the 
washing  of  the  water  about  the  decks,  the  working  of  the 
chain-pumps,  and  the  creaking  and  groaning  of  the  timbers, 
I  thought  that  we  must  inevitably  have  been  lost;  and  I 
said  my  prayers  at  least  a  dozen  times  during  the  night, 
for  I  felt  it  impossible  to  go  to  bed.  I  had  often  wished, 
out  of  curiosity,  that  I  might  be  in  a  gale  of  wind;  but  I 
little  thought  it  was  to  have  been  a  scene  of  this  descrip- 
tion, or  anything  half  so  dreadful.  What  made  it  more 
appalling  was,  that  we  were  on  a  lee  shore,  and  the  con- 
sultations of  the  captain  and  officers,  and  the  eager- 
ness with  which  they  looked  out  for  daylight,  told  us  that 
we  had  other  dangers  to  encounter  besides  the  storm. 
At  last  the  morning  broke,  and  the  look-out  man  upon  the 
gangway  called  out,  "  Land  on  the  lee  beam!"  I  per- 
ceived the  master  dash  his  feet  against  the  hammock-rails, 
as  if  with  vexation,  and  walk  away  without  saying  a  word, 
looking  very  grave. 

"  Up  there,  Mr.  Wilson,"  said  the  captain  to  the  second 
lieutenant,  "  and  see  how  far  the  land  trends  forward, 
and  whether  you  can  distinguish  the  point."     The  second 
lieutenant  went  up  the  main-rigging,  and  pointed  with  his 
hand  to  about  two  points  before  the  beam. 
"  Do  you  see  two  hillocks,  inland?" 
"  Yes,  sir,"  replied  the  second  lieutenant. 


28  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

"  Then  it  is  so,"  observed  the  captain  to  the  master, 
u  and  if  we  weather  it  we  shall  have  more  sea-room. 
Keep  her  full,  and  let  her  go  through  the  water;  do  you 
hear,  quartermaster?" 

"  Ay,  ay,  sir." 

'  Thus,  and  no  nearer,  my  man.  Ease  her  with  a  spoke 
or  two  when  she  sends;  but  be  careful,  or  she'll  take  the 
wheel  out  of  your  hands." 

It  really  was  a  very  awful  sight.  When  the  ship  was 
in  the  trough  of  the  sea,  you  could  distinguish  nothing  but 
a  waste  of  tumultuous  water;  but  when  she  was  borne 
up  on  the  summit  of  the  enormous  waves,  you  then  looked 
down,  as  it  were,  upon  a  low,  sandy  coast,  close  to  you, 
and  covered  with  foam  and  breakers.  "  She  behaves 
nobly,"  observed  the  captain,  stepping  aft  to  the  binnacle, 
and  looking  at  the  compass;  "  if  the  wind  does  not  baffle 
us,  we  shall  weather."  The  captain  had  scarcely  time  to 
make  the  observation,  when  the  sails  shivered  and  flapped 
like  thunder.  "  Up  with  the  helm;  what  are  you  about, 
quartermaster?  " 

u  The  wind  has  headed  us,  sir,"  replied  the  quarter- 
master, coolly. 

The  captain  and  master  remained  at  the  binnacle  watch- 
ing the  compass;  and  when  the  sails  were  again  full,  she 
had  broken  off  two  points,  and  the  point  of  land  was  only 
a  little  on  the  lee-bow. 

"  We  must  wear  her  round,  Mr.  Falcon.  Hands,  wear 
ship — ready,  oh,  ready." 

"  She  has  come  up  again,"  cried  the  master,  who  was 
at  the  binnacle. 

"Hold  fast  there  a  minute.     How's  her  head  now?" 

"  N.N.E.,  as  she  was  before  she  broke  off,  sir." 

"  Pipe  belay,"  said  the  captain.  "  Falcon,"  continued 
he,  "  if  she  breaks  off  again  we  may  have  no  room  to  wear; 
indeed,  there  is  so  little  room  now,  that  I  must  run  the 


CLUB-HAULING  OF  THE  DIOMEDE     29 

risk.  Which  cable  was  ranged  last  night  —  the  best 
bower?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Jump  down,  then,  and  see  it  double-bitted  and  stop- 
pered at  thirty  fathoms.  See  it  well  done  —  our  lives  may 
depend  upon  it." 

The  ship  continued  to  hold  her  course  good;  and  we 
were  within  half  a  mile  of  the  point,  and  fully  expected 
to  weather  it,  when  again  the  wet  and  heavy  sails  flapped 
in  the  wind,  and  the  ship  broke  off  two  points  as  before. 
The  officers  and  seamen  were  aghast,  for  the  ship's  head 
was  right  on  to  the  breakers.  "  Luff  now,  all  you  can, 
quartermaster,"  cried  the  captain.  "  Send  the  men  aft 
directly.  My  lads,  there  is  no  time  for  words  —  I  am 
going  to  club-haul  the  ship,  for  there  is  no  room  to  wear. 
The  only  chance  you  have  of  safety  is  to  be  cool,  watch 
my  eye,  and  execute  my  orders  with  precision.  Away  to 
your  stations  for  tacking  ship.  Hands  by  the  best  bower 
anchor.  Mr.  Wilson,  attend  below  with  the  carpenter 
and  his  mates,  ready  to  cut  away  the  cable  at  the  moment 
that  I  give  the  order.  Silence  there,  fore  and  aft.  Quar- 
termaster, keep  her  full  again  for  stays.  Mind  you  ease 
the  helm  down  when  I  tell  you."  About  a  minute  passed 
before  the  captain  gave  any  further  orders.  The  ship 
had  closed-to  within  a  quarter-mile  of  the  beach,  and  the 
waves  curled  and  topped  around  us,  bearing  us  down  upon 
the  shore,  which  presented  one  continued  surface  of  foam, 
extending  to  within  half  a  cable's  length  of  our  position. 
The  captain  waved  his  hand  in  silence  to  the  quartermaster 
at  the  wheel,  and  the  helm  was  put  down.  The  ship 
turned  slowly  to  the  wind,  pitching  and  chopping  as  the 
sails  were  spilling.  When  she  had  lost  her  way,  the  cap- 
tain gave  the  order,  "  Let  go  the  anchor.  We  will  haul 
all  at  once,  Mr.  Falcon,"  said  the  captain.  Not  a  word 
was  spoken;  the  men  went  to  the  fore  brace,  which  had 


30  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

not  been  manned;  most  of  them  knew,  although  I  did  not, 
that  if  the  ship's  head  did  not  go  round  the  other  way, 
we  should  be  on  shore,  and  among  the  breakers,  in  half 
a  minute.  I  thought  at  the  time  that  the  captain  had 
said  that  he  would  haul  all  the  yards  at  once,  there  ap- 
peared to  be  doubt  or  dissent  on  the  countenance  of  Mr. 
Falcon;  and  I  was  afterwards  told  that  he  had  not  agreed 
with  the  captain;  but  he  was  too  good  an  officer,  and  knew 
that  there  was  no  time  for  discussion,  to  make  any  remark: 
and  the  event  proved  that  the  captain  was  right.  At  last 
the  ship  was  head  to  wind,  and  the  captain  gave  the  signal. 
The  yards  flew  round  with  such  a  creaking  noise,  that 
I  thought  the  masts  had  gone  over  the  side,  and  the  next 
moment  the  wind  had  caught  the  sails ;  and  the  ship,  which 
for  a  moment  or  two  had  been  on  an  even  keel,  careened 
over  to  her  gunwale  with  its  force.  The  captain,  who 
stood  upon  the  weather  hammock-rails,  holding  by  the 
main-rigging,  ordered  the  helm  a-midships,  looked  full 
at  the  sails,  and  then  at  the  cable,  which  grew  broad  upon 
the  weather-bow,  and  held  the  ship  from  nearing  the 
shore.  At  last  he  cried,  "  Cut  away  the  cable !  "  A  few 
strokes  of  the  axes  were  heard,  and  then  the  cable  flew 
out  of  the  hawse-hole  in  a  blaze  of  fire,  from  the  violence 
of  the  friction,  and  disappeared  under  a  huge  wave,  which 
struck  us  on  the  chesstree,  and  deluged  us  with  water  fore 
and  aft.  But  we  were  now  on  the  other  tack,  and  the  ship 
regained  her  way,  and  we  had  evidently  increased  our  dis- 
tance from  the  land. 

"  My  lads,"  said  the  captain  to  the  ship's  company, 
"  you  have  behaved  well,  and  I  thank  you;  but  I  must 
tell  you  honestly  that  we  have  more  difficulties  to  get 
through.  We  have  to  weather  a  point  of  the  bay  on  this 
tack.  Mr.  Falcon,  splice  the  main-brace,  and  call  the 
watch.  How's  her  head,  quartermaster?  " 

"  S.W.  by  S.     Southerly,  sir." 


CLUB-HAULING  OF  THE  DIOMEDE      31 

"Very  well;  let  her  go  through  the  water;  "  and  the 
captain,  beckoning  to  the  master  to  follow  him,  went  down 
into  the  cabin.  As  our  immediate  danger  was  over,  I  went 
down  into  the  berth  to  see  if  I  could  get  anything  for 
breakfast,  where  I  found  O'Brien  and  two  or  three  more. 

"  By  the  powers,  it  was  as  nate  a  thing  as  ever  I  saw 
done,"  observed  O'Brien:  "  the  slightest  mistake  as  to  time 
or  management,  and  at  this  moment  the  flatfish  would 
have  been  dubbing  at  our  ugly  carcasses.  Peter,  you're 
not  fond  of  flatfish,  are  you,  my  boy?  We  may  thank 
Heaven  and  the  captain,  I  can  tell  you  that,  my  lads;  but 
now,  where's  the  chart,  Robinson?  Hand  me  down  the 
parallel  rules  and  compasses,  Peter;  they  are  in  the  corner 
of  the  shelf.  Here  we  are  now,  a  devilish  sight  too  near 
this  infernal  point.  Who  knows  how  her  head  is?  " 

"I  do,  O'Brien:  I  heard  the  quartermaster  tell  the 
captain  S.W.  by  S.  Southerly." 

"  Let  me  see,"  continued  O'Brien,  "  variation  21A  - 
leeway  — •  rather  too  large  an  allowance  of  that,  I'm 
afraid;  but,  however,  we'll  give  her  2%'  points;  the 
Diomede  would  blush  to  make  any  more,  under  any  cir- 
cumstances. Here  —  the  compass  —  now,  we'll  see;" 
and  O'Brien  advanced  the  parallel  rule  from  the  compass 
to  the  spot  where  the  ship  was  placed  on  the  chart. 
"  Bother!  you  see,  it's  as  much  as  she'll  do  to  weather  the 
other  point  now,  on  this  tack,  and  that's  what  the  captain 
meant  when  he  told  us  we  had  more  difficulty.  I  could 
have  taken  my  Bible  oath  that  we  were  clear  of  every- 
thing, if  the  wind  held." 

"  See  what  the  distance  is,  O'Brien,"  said  Robinson. 
It  was  measured,  and  proved  to  be  thirteen  miles.  "  Only 
thirteen  miles;  and  if  we  do  weather,  we  shall  do  very 
well,  for  the  bay  is  deep  beyond.  It's  a  rocky  point,  you 
see,  just  by  way  of  variety.  Well,  my  lads,  Fve  a  piece 
of  comfort  for  you,  anyhow.  It's  not  long  that  you'll  be 


32  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

kept  in  suspense,  for  by  one  o'clock  this  day  you'll  either 
be  congratulating  each  other  upon  your  good  luck,  or 
you'll  be  past  praying  for.  Come,  put  up  the  chart,  for  I 
hate  to  look  at  melancholy  prospects;  and,  steward,  see 
what  you  can  find  in  the  way  of  comfort."  Some  bread  and 
cheese,  with  the  remains  of  yesterday's  boiled  pork,  were 
put  on  the  table,  with  a  bottle  of  rum,  procured  at  the 
time  they  "spliced  the  main  brace,"  but  we  were  all  too 
anxious  to  eat  much,  and  one  by  one  returned  on  deck 
to  see  how  the  weather  was,  and  if  the  wind  at  all  favored 
us.  On  deck  the  superior  officers  were  in  conversation 
with  the  captain,  who  expressed  the  same  fear  that  O'Brien 
had  in  our  berth.  The  men,  who  knew  what  they  had 
to  expect,  were  assembled  in  knots,  looking  very  grave, 
but  at  the  same  time  not  wanting  in  confidence.  They 
knew  that  they  could  trust  to  the  captain,  as  far  as  skill 
or  courage  could  avail  them;  and  sailors  are  too  sanguine 
to  despair,  even  at  the  last  moment.  As  for  myself,  I  felt 
such  admiration  for  the  captain,  after  what  I  had  witnessed 
that  morning,  that,  whenever  the  idea  came  over  me,  that 
in  all  probability  I  should  be  lost  in  a  few  hours,  I  could 
not  help  acknowledging  how  much  more  serious  it  was 
that  such  a  man  should  be  lost  to  his  country.  I  do  not 
intend  to  say  that  it  consoled  me,  but  it  certainly  made  me 
still  more  regret  the  chances  with  which  we  were 
threatened. 

Before  twelve  o'clock  the  rocky  point  which  we  so  much 
dreaded  was  in  sight,  broad  on  the  lee  bow;  and  if  the 
low  sandy  coast  appeared  terrible,  how  much  more  did 
this,  even  at  a  distance.  The  captain  eyed  it  for  some 
minutes  in  silence,  as  if  in  calculation. 

"  Mr.  Falcon,"  said  he,  at  last,  "  we  must  put  the  main- 
sail on  her." 

"She  never  can  bear  it,  sir." 

"  She  must  bear  it,"  was  the  reply.    "  Send  the  men  aft 


CLUB-HAULING  OF  THE  DIOMEDE     33 

to  the  mainshcet.  See  that  careful  men  attend  the  bunt- 
lines." 

The  mainsail  was  set,  and  the  effect  of  it  upon  the  ship 
was  tremendous.  She  careened  over  so  that  her  lee  chan- 
nels were  under  the  water;  and  when  pressed  by  a  sea, 
the  lee  side  of  the  quarter-deck  and  gangway  were  afloat. 
She  now  reminded  me  of  a  goaded  and  fiery  horse,  mad 
with  the  stimulus  applied;  not  rising  as  before,  but  forc- 
ing herself  through  whole  seas,  and  dividing  the  waves, 
which  poured  in  one  continual  torrent  from  the  forecastle 
down  upon  the  decks  below.  Four  men  were  secured  to 
the  wheel  —  the  sailors  were  obliged  to  cling  to  prevent 
being  washed  away  —  the  ropes  were  thrown  in  confusion 
to  leeward  —  the  shot  rolled  out  of  the  lockers,  and  every 
eye  was  fixed  aloft,  watching  the  masts,  which  were  ex- 
pected every  moment  to  go  over  the  side.  A  heavy  sea 
struck  us  on  the  broadside,  and  it  was  some  moments 
before  the  ship  appeared  to  recover  herself;  she  reeled, 
trembled,  and  stopped  her  way,  as  if  it  had  stupefied  her. 
The  first  lieutenant  looked  at  the  captain,  as  if  to  say, 
'  This  will  not  do."  "  It  is  our  only  chance,"  answered 
the  captain  to  the  appeal.  That  the  ship  went  faster 
through  the  water,  and  held  a  better  wind,  was  certain; 
but  just  before  we  arrived  at  the  point  the  gale  increased 
in  force.  "If  anything  starts  we  are  lost,  sir,"  observed 
the  first  lieutenant  again. 

;<  I  am  perfectly  well  aware  of  it,"  replied  the  captain, 
in  a  calm  tone;  "  but,  as  I  said  before,  and  as  you  must 
now  be  aware,  it  is  our  only  chance.  The  consequence  of 
any  carelessness  or  neglect  in  the  fitting  and  securing  of 
the  rigging  will  be  felt  now;  and  this  danger,  if  we  escape 
it,  ought  to  remind  us  how  much  we  have  to  answer  for 
if  we  neglect  our  duty.  The  lives  of  a  whole  ship's  com- 
pany may  be  sacrificed  by  the  neglect  or  incompetence  of 
an  officer  when  in  harbor.  I  will  pay  you  the  compli- 


34  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

ment,  Falcon,  to  say,  that  I  feel  convinced  that  the  masts 
of  the  ship  are  as  secure  as  knowledge  and  attention  can 
make  them." 

The  first  lieutenant  thanked  the  captain  for  his  good 
opinion,  and  hoped  that  it  would  not  be  the  last  compli- 
ment which  he  paid  him. 

u  I  hope  not,  too;  but  a  few  minutes  will  decide  the 
point." 

The  ship  was  now  within  two  cables'  lengths  of  the 
rocky  point;  some  few  of  the  men  I  observed  to  clasp 
their  hands,  but  most  of  them  were  silently  taking  off 
their  jackets,  and  kicking  off  their  shoes,  that  they  might 
not  lose  a  chance  of  escape  provided  the  ship  struck 

"  'Twill  be  touch  and  go,  indeed,  Falcon,"  observed  the 
captain  (for  I  had  clung  to  the  belaying  pins,  close  to 
them  for  the  last  half-hour  that  the  mainsail  had  been 
set).  "  Come  aft,  you  and  I  must  take  the  helm.  We 
shall  want  nerve  there,  and  only  there,  now." 

The  captain  and  first  lieutenant  went  aft,  and  took  the 
fore-spokes  of  the  wheel,  and  O'B'rien,  at  a  sign  made  by 
the  captain,  laid  hold  of  the  spokes  behind  him.  An  old 
quartermaster  kept  his  station  at  the  fourth.  The  roar- 
ing of  the  seas  on  the  rocks,  with  the  howling  of  the 
wind,  were  dreadful;  but  the  sight  was  more  dreadful 
than  the  noise.  For  a  few  minutes  I  shut  my  eyes,  but 
anxiety  forced  me  to  open  them  again.  As  near  as  I  could 
judge,  we  were  not  twenty  yards  from  the  rocks,  at  the 
time  that  the  ship  passed  abreast  of  them.  We  were  in 
the  midst  of  the  foam,  which  boiled  around  us;  and  as 
the  ship  was  driven  nearer  to  them,  and  careened  with 
the  wave,  I  thought  that  our  main  yard-arm  would  have 
touched  the  rock;  and  at  this  moment  a  gust  of  wind  came 
on,  which  laid  the  ship  on  her  beam-ends,  and  checked  her 
progress  through  the  water,  while  the  accumulating  noise 
was  deafening.  A  few  moments  more  the  ship  dragged 


CLUB-HAULING  OF  THE  DIOMEDE      35 

on,  another  wave  dashed  over  her  and  spent  itself  upon 
the  rocks,  while  the  spray  was  dashed  back  from  them, 
and  returned  upon  the  decks.  The  main  rock  was  within 
ten  yards  of  the  counter,  when  another  gust  of  wind  laid 
us  on  our  beam-ends,  the  foresail  and  mainsail  split,  and 
were  blown  clean  out  of  the  bolt-ropes  —  the  ship  righted, 
trembling  fore  and  aft.  I  looked  astern:  —  the  rocks 
were  to  windward  on  our  quarter,  and  we  were  safe.  I 
thought  at  the  time  that  the  ship,  relieved  of  her  courses, 
and  again  lifting  over  the  waves,  was  not  a  bad  similitude 
of  the  relief  felt  by  us  all  at  that  moment;  and,  like  her, 
we  trembled  as  we  panted  with  the  sudden  reaction,  and 
felt  the  removal  of  the  intense  anxiety  which  oppressed 
our  breasts. 

The  captain  resigned  the  helm,  and  walked  aft  to  look 
at  the  point,  which  was  now  broad  on  the  weather-quarter. 
In  a  minute  or  two,  he  desired  Mr.  Falcon  to  get  new 
sails  up  and  bend  them,  and  then  went  below  to  his  cabin. 
I  am  sure  it  was  to  thank  God  for  our  deliverance :  I  did 
most  fervently,  not  only  then,  but  when  I  went  to  my 
hammock  at  night.  We  were  now  comparatively  safe  — 
in  a  few  hours  completely  so;  for,  strange  to  say,  imme- 
diately after  we  had  weathered  the  rocks,  the  gale  abated, 
and  before  morning  we  had  a  reef  out  of  the  topsails. 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  TORCH 
From  "Tom  Cringle's  Log,"  BY  MICHAEL  SCOTT 

HELIGOLAND    light — north    and    by    west — so 
many   leagues — wind   baffling — weather   hazy— 
Lady  Passengers  on  deck  for  the  first  time. 

Arrived  in  the  Downs — ordered  by  signal  from  the 
guardship  to  proceed  to  Portsmouth.  Arrived  at  Spit- 
head — ordered  to  fit  to  receive  a  general  officer,  and  six 
pieces  of  field  artillery,  and  a  Spanish  Ecclesiastic,  the 

Canon  of  .     Plenty  of  great  guns,  at  any  rate — a 

regular  park  of  artillery. 

Received  General  *  *  *  *  and  his  wife,  and  aide-de- 
camp, and  two  poodle-dogs,  one  white  man-servant,  one 
black  ditto,  and  the  Canon  of  ,  and  the  six  nine- 
pound  field-pieces,  and  sailed  for  the  Cove  of  Cork. 

It  was  blowing  hard  as  we  stood  in  for  the  Old  Head 
of  Kinsale — pilot  boat  breasting  the  foaming  surge  like 
a  sea  gull — Carrol  Cove  in  her  tiny  mainsail — pilot 
jumped  into  the  main  channel — bottle  of  rum  swung  by  the 
lead  line  into  the  boat — all  very  clever. 

Ran  in,  and  anchored  under  Spike  Island.  A  line-of- 
battle  ship,  three  frigates,  and  a  number  of  merchantmen 
at  anchor — men-of-war  lovely  craft — bands  playing — a 
good  deal  of  the  pomp  and  circumstances  of  war.  Next 
forenoon,  Mr.  Treenail,  the  second  lieutenant,  sent  for 
me. 

"Mr.  Cringle,"  said  he,  "you  have  an  uncle  in  Cork, 
I  believe?" 

I  said  I  had. 

"I  am  going  there  on  duty  to-night;  I  daresay,  if  you 
asked  the  captain  to  let  you  accompany  me,  he  would  do 

36 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  TORCH  37 

so."  This  was  too  good  an  offer  not  to  be  taken  advan- 
tage of.  I  plucked  up  courage,  made  my  bow,  asked 
leave,  and  got  it;  and  the  evening  found  my  friend  the  lieu- 
tenant, and  myself,  after  a  ride  of  three  hours,  during 
which  I,  for  one,  had  my  bottom  sheathing  grievously 
rubbed,  and  a  considerable  botheration  at  crossing  the 
Ferry  at  Passage,  safe  in  our  inn  at  Cork.  I  soon  found 
out  that  the  object  of  my  superior  officer  was  to  gain  in- 
formation amongst  the  crimp  shops,  where  ten  men  who 
had  run  from  one  of  the  West  Indiamen,  waiting  at  Cove 
for  convoy,  were  stowed  away,  but  I  was  not  let  further 
into  the  secret;  so  I  set  out  to  pay  my  visit,  and  after  pass- 
ing a  pleasant  evening  with  my  friends,  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Job  Cringle,  the  lieutenant  dropped  in  upon  us  about  nine 
o'clock.  He  was  heartily  welcomed;  and  under  the  plea 
of  our  being  obliged  to  return  to  the  ship  early  next  morn- 
ing, we  soon  took  leave,  and  returned  to  the  inn.  As  I 
was  turning  into  the  public  room,  the  door  was  open,  and 
I  could  see  it  full  of  blowsy-faced  monsters,  glimmering 
and  jabbering,  through  the  midst  of  hot  brandy  grog  and 
gin  twist;  with  poodle  Benjamins,  and  greatcoats,  and 
cloaks  of  all  sorts  and  sizes,  steaming  on  their  pegs,  with 
Barcelonas  and  comforters,  and  damp  travelling  caps  of 
seal-skin,  and  blue  cloth,  and  tartan,  arranged  above  the 
same.  Nevertheless,  such  a  society  in  my  juvenile  estima- 
tion, during  my  short  escapade  from  the  middy's  berth, 
had  its  charms,  and  I  was  rolling  in  with  a  tolerable  swag- 
ger, when  Mr.  Treenail  pinched  my  arm. 

"Mr.  Cringle,  come  here  into  my  room." 

From  the  way  in  which  he  spoke,  I  imagined,  in  my 
innocence,  that  his  room  was  at  my  elbow;  but  no  such 
thing — we  had  to  ascend  a  long,  and  not  over-clean  stair- 
case, to  the  fourth  floor,  before  we  were  shown  into  a 
miserable  little  double-bedded  room.  So  soon  as  we  had 
entered,  the  lieutenant  shut  the  door. 


38  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

"Tom,"  said  he,  "I  have  taken  a  fancy  to  you,  and 
therefore  I  applied  for  leave  to  bring  you  with  me ;  but  I 
must  expose  you  to  some  danger,  and  I  will  allow,  not 
altogether  in  a  very  creditable  way  either.  You  must  en- 
act the  spy  for  a  short  space." 

I  did  not  like  the  notion,  certainly,  but  I  had  little  time 
for  consideration. 

"Here,"  he  continued — "here  is  a  bundle."  He  threw 
it  on  the  floor.  "You  must  rig  in  the  clothes  it  contains, 
and  make  your  way  into  the  celebrated  crimp-shop  in  the 
neighborhood,  and  pick  up  all  the  information  you  can 
regarding  the  haunts  of  the  pressable  men  at  Cove,  es- 
pecially with  regard  to  the  ten  seamen  who  have  run  from 
the  West  Indiaman  we  left  below.  You  know  the  Ad- 
miral has  forbidden  pressing  at  Cork,  so  you  must  con- 
trive to  frighten  the  blue  jackets  down  to  Cove,  by  rep- 
resenting yourself  as  an  apprentice  of  one  of  the  merchant 
vessels,  who  had  run  from  his  indentures,  and  that  you 
had  narrowly  escaped  from  a  press-gang  this  very  night 
here." 

I  made  no  scruples,  but  forthwith  arrayed  myself  in  the 
slops  contained  in  the  bundle;  in  a  pair  of  shag  trousers, 
red  flannel  shirt,  coarse  blue  cloth  jacket,  and  no  waist- 
coat. 

"Now,"  said  Mr.  Treenail,  "stick  a  quid  of  tobacco  in 
your  cheek,  and^take  the  cockade  out  of  your  hat;  or  stop, 
leave  it,  and  ship  this  striped  woollen  night  cap — so — and 
come  along  with  me." 

We  left  the  house,  and  walked  half  a  mile  down  the 
Quay. 

Presently  we  arrived  before  a  kind  of  low  grog-shop — 
a  bright  lamp  was  flaring  in  the  breeze  at  the  door,  one 
of  the  panes  of  the  glass  of  it  being  broken. 

Before  I  entered,  Mr.  Treenail  took  me  to  one  side — 
"Tom,  Tom  Cringle,  you  must  go  into  this  crimp-shop; 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  TORCH  39 

pass  yourself  off  for  an  apprentice  of  the  Guava,  bound 
for  Trinidad,  the  ship  that  arrived  just  as  we  started,  and 
pick  up  all  the  knowledge  you  can  regarding  the  where- 
abouts of  the  men,  for  we  are,  as  you  know,  cruelly  ill 
manned,  and  must  replenish  as  we  best  may."  I  entered 
the  house,  after  having  agreed  to  rejoin  my  superior  of- 
ficer so  soon  as  I  considered  I  had  obtained  my  object. 
I  rapped  at  the  inner  door,  in  which  there  was  a  small 
unglazed  aperture  cut,  about  four  inches  square;  and  I 
now,  for  the  first  time,  perceived  that  a  strong  glare  of 
light  was  cast  into  the  lobby,  where  I  stood,  by  a  large 
argand  with  a  brilliant  reflector,  that,  like  a  magazine 
lantern,  had  been  mortised  into  the  bulkhead,  at  a  height 
of  about  two  feet  above  the  door  in  which  the  spy-hole 
was  cut.  My  first  signal  was  not  attended  to:  I  rapped 
again,  and,  looking  round,  I  noticed  Mr.  Treenail  flitting 
backwards  and  forwards  across  the  doorway,  in  the  rain, 
his  pale  face  and  his  sharp  nose,  with  the  sparkling  drop 
at  the  end  on't,  glancing  in  the  light  of  the  lamp.  I  heard 
a  step  within,  and  a  very  pretty  face  now  appeared  at  the 
wicket. 

"Who  are  you  saking  here,  an'  please  ye?" 

"No  one  in  particular,  my  dear;  but  if  you  don't  let  me 
in,  I  shall  be  lodged  in  jail  before  five  minutes  be  over." 

"I  can't  help  that,  young  man,"  said  she;  "but  where 
are  ye  from,  darling!" 

"Hush — I  am  run  from  the  Guava,  now  lying  at  the 
Cove." 

"Oh,"  said  my  beauty,  "come  in";  and  she  opened  the 
door,  but  still  kept  it  on  the  chain  in  such  a  way,  that  al- 
though, by  bobbing,  I  creeped  and  slid  in  beneath  it,  yet 
a  common-sized  man  could  not  possibly  have  squeezed 
himself  through.  The  instant  I  entered,  the  door  was 
once  more  banged  to,  and  the  next  moment  I  was  ushered 
into  the  kitchen,  a  room  about  fourteen  feet  square,  with 


40  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

a  well-sanded  floor,  a  huge  dresser  on  one  side,  and  over 
against  it  a  respectable  show  of  pewter  dishes  in  racks 
against  the  wall.  There  was  a  long  stripe  of  a  deal  table 
in  the  middle  of  the  room — but  no  tablecloth — at  the  bot- 
tom of  which  sat  a  large,  bloated,  brandy,  or  rather  whisky 
faced  savage,  dressed  in  a  shabby  greatcoat  of  the  hodden 
grey  worn  by  the  Irish  peasantry,  dirty  swandown  vest, 
and  greasy  corduroy  breeches,  worsted  stockings,  and  well- 
patched  shoes ;  he  was  smoking  a  long  pipe.  Around  the 
table  sat  about  a  dozen  seamen,  from  whose  wet  jackets 
and  trousers  the  heat  of  the  blazing  fire,  that  roared  up 
the  chimney,  sent  up  a  smoky  steam  that  cast  a  halo  round 
a  lamp  which  depended  from  the  roof,  and  hung  down 
within  two  feet  of  the  table,  stinking  abominably  of 
coarse  whale  oil.  They  were,  generally  speaking,  hardy, 
weather-beaten  men,  and  the  greater  proportion  half,  or 
more  than  half,  drunk.  When  I  entered,  I  walked  up  to 
the  landlord. 

uYo  ho,  my  young  un!  whence  and  whither  bound,  my 
hearty  ?" 

"The  first  don't  signify  much  to  you,"  said  I,  "seeing 
I  have  wherewithal  in  my  locker  to  pay  my  shot;  and  as 
to  the  second,  of  that  hereafter;  so,  old  boy,  let's  have 
some  grog,  and  then  say  if  you  can  ship  me  with  one  of 
them  colliers  that  are  lying  alongside  the  quay?" 

"My  eye,  what  a  lot  of  brass  that  small  chap  has!" 
grumbled  mine  host.  "Why,  my  lad,  we  shall  see  to- 
morrow morning;  but  you  gammons  so  about  the  rhino, 
that  we  must  prove  you  a  bit;  so,  Kate,  my  dear," — to  the 
pretty  girl  who  had  let  me  in — "score  a  pint  of  rum  against 
Why,  what  is  your  name?" 

"What's  that  to  you?"  rejoined  I,  "let's  have  the  drink, 
and  don't  doubt  but  the  shiners  shall  be  forthcoming." 

"Hurrah!"  shouted  the  party,  most  of  them  now  very 
tipsy.  So  the  rum  was  produced  forthwith,  and  as  I 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  TORCH  41 

lighted  a  pipe  and  filled  a  glass  of  swizzle,  I  struck  in, 
"Messmates,  I  hope  you  have  all  shipped?" 

"No,  we  han't,"  said  some  of  them. 

"Nor  shall  we  be  in  any  hurry,  boy,"  said  others. 

"Do  as  you  please,  but  I  shall,  as  soon  as  I  can,  I  know; 
and  I  recommend  all  of  you  making  yourselves  scarce  to- 
night, and  keeping  a  bright  look-out." 

"Why,  boy,  why?" 

"Simply  because  I  have  just  escaped  a  press-gang,  by 
bracing  sharp  up  at  the  corner  of  the  street,  and  shoving 
into  this  dark  alley  here." 

This  called  forth  another  volley  of  oaths  and  un- 
savoury exclamations,  and  all  was  bustle  and  confusion, 
and  packing  up  of  bundles,  and  settling  of  reckonings. 

"Where,"  said  one  of  the  seamen, — "where  do  you  go 
to,  my  lad?" 

"Why,  if  I  can't  get  shipped  to-night,  I  shall  trundle 
down  to  Cove  immediately,  so  as  to  cross  at  Passage  be- 
fore daylight,  and  take  my  chance  of  shipping  with  some 
of  the  outward-bound  that  are  to  sail,  if  the  wind  holds, 
the  day  after  to-morrow.  There  is  to  be  no  pressing  when 
the  blue  Peter  flies  at  the  fore — and  that  was  hoisted  this 
afternoon,  I  know,  and  the  foretopsail  will  be  loose  to- 
morrow. 

"D — n  my  wig,  but  the  small  chap  is  right,''  roared  one. 

"I've  a  bloody  great  mind  to  go  down  with  him,"  stut- 
tered another,  after  several  unavailing  attempts  to  weigh 
from  the  bench,  where  he  had  brought  himself  to  anchor. 

"Hurrah!"  yelled  a  third,  as  he  hugged  me,  and  nearly 
suffocated  me  with  his  maudlin  caresses,  "I  trundles  wid 
you  too,  my  darling,  by  the  piper!" 

"Have  with  you,  boy — have  with  you,"  shouted  half- 
a-dozen  other  voices,  while  each  stuck  his  oaken  twig 
through  the  handkerchief  that  held  his  bundle,  and  shoul- 
dered it,  clapping  his  straw  or  tarpaulin  hat,  with  a  slap 


42  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

on  the  crown,  on  one  side  of  his  head,  and  staggering  and 
swaying  about  under  the  influence  of  the  poteen,  and  slap- 
ping his  thigh,  as  he  bent  double,  laughing  like  to  split 
himself,  till  the  water  ran  over  his  cheeks  from  his  drunken 
half-shut  eyes,  while  jets  of  tobacco-juice  were  squirting 
in  all  directions. 

I  paid  the  reckoning,  urging  the  party  to  proceed  all  the 
while,  and  indicating  Pat  Doolan's  at  the  Cove  as  a  good 
rendezvous;  and,  promising  to  overtake  them  before  they 
reached  Passage,  I  parted  company  at  the  corner  of  the 
street,  and  rejoined  the  lieutenant. 

Next  morning  we  spent  in  looking  about  the  town- 
Cork  is  a  fine  town — contains  seventy  thousand  inhabitants 
more  or  less — safe  in  that — and  three  hundred  thousand 
pigs,  driven  by  herdsmen,  with  coarse  grey  greatcoats.  The 
pigs  are  not  so  handsome  as  those  in  England,  where  the 
legs  are  short,  and  tails  curly;  here  the  legs  are  long,  the 
flanks  sharp  and  thin,  and  tails  long  and  straight. 

All  classes  speak  with  a  deuced  brogue,  and  worship 
graven  images;  arrived  at  Cove  to  a  late  dinner — and 
here  follows  a  great  deal  of  nonsense  of  the  same  kind. 

By  the  time  it  was  half-past  ten  o'clock,  I  was  preparing 
to  turn  in,  when  the  master  at  arms  called  down  to  me,— 

"Mr.  Cringle,  you  are  wanted  in  the  gunroom." 

I  put  on  my  jacket  again,  and  immediately  proceeded 
thither,  and  on  my  way  I  noticed  a  group  of  seamen,  stand- 
ing on  the  starboard  gangway,  dressed  in  pea-jackets,  un- 
der which,  by  the  light  of  a  lantern,  carried  by  one  of  them, 
I  could  see  they  were  all  armed  with  pistols  and  cutlass. 
They  appeared  in  great  glee,  and  as  they  made  way  for 
me,  I  could  hear  one  fellow  whisper,  "There  goes  the  little 
beagle."  When  I  entered  the  gunroom,  the  first  lieuten- 
ant, master,  and  purser,  were  sitting  smoking  and  enjoy- 
ing themselves  over  a  glass  of  cold  grog — the  gunner  tak- 
ing the  watch  on  deck — the  doctor  was  piping  anything 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  TORCH  43 

but  mellifluously  on  the  double  flagolet,  while  the  Spanish 
priest,  and  aide-de-camp  to  the  general,  were  playing  at 
chess,  and  wrangling  in  bad  French.  I  could  hear  Mr. 
Treenail  rumbling  and  stumbling  in  his  stateroom,  as  he 
accoutred  himself  in  a  jacket  similar  to  those  of  the  armed 
boat's  crew  whom  I  had  passed,  and  presently  he  stepped 
into  the  gunroom,  armed  also  with  cutlass  and  pistol. 

"Mr.  Cringle,  get  ready  to  go  in  the  boat  with  me,  and 
bring  your  arms  with  you." 

I  now  knew  whereabouts  I  was,  and  that  my  Cork 
friends  were  the  quarry  at  which  we  aimed.  I  did  as  I 
was  ordered,  and  we  immediately  pulled  on  shore,  where* 
leaving  two  strong  fellows  in  charge  of  the  boat,  with  in- 
structions to  fire  their  pistols  and  shove  off  a  couple  of 
boat-lengths  should  any  suspicious  circumstances  indicat- 
ing an  attack  take  place,  we  separated,  like  a  pulk  of  Cos- 
sacks coming  to  the  charge,  but  without  the  hourah,  with 
orders  to  meet  before  Pat  Doolan's  door,  as  speedily  as 
our  legs  could  carry  us.  We  had  landed  about  a  cable's 
length  to  the  right  of  the  high  precipitous  bank — up  which 
we  stole  in  straggling  parties — on  which  that  abominable 
congregation  of  the  most  filthy  huts  ever  pig  grunted  in 
is  situated,  called  the  Holy  Ground.  Pat  Doolan's  dom- 
ocile  was  in  a  little  dirty  lane,  about  the  middle  of  the  vil- 
lage. Presently  ten  strapping  fellows,  including  the  lieu- 
tenant, were  before  the  door,  each  man  with  his  stretcher 
in  his  hand.  It  was  very  tempestuous,  although  moon- 
light, night,  occasionally  clear,  with  the  moonbeams  at  one 
moment  sparkling  brightly  in  the  small  ripples  on  the  fil- 
thy puddles  before  the  door,  and  one  the  gem-like  water 
drops  that  hung  from  the  eaves  of  the  thatched  roof,  and 
lighting  up  the  dark  statue-like  figures  of  the  men,  and 
casting  their  long  shadows  strongly  against  the  mud  wall 
of  the  house;  at  another,  a  black  cloud,  as  it  flew  across 
her  disk,  cast  everything  into  deep  shade;  while  the  only 


44  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

noise  we  heard  was  the  hoarse  dashing  of  the  distant  surf, 
rising  and  falling  on  the  fitful  gusts  of  the  breeze.  We 
tried  the  door.  It  was  fast. 

"Surround  the  house,  men,"  said  the  lieutenant  in  a 
whisper.  He  rapped  loudly.  "Pat  Doolan,  my  man, 
open  the  door,  will  ye?"  No  answer.  "If  you  don't,  we 
shall  make  free  to  break  it  open,  Patrick,  dear." 

All  this  while  the  light  of  a  fire,  or  of  candles,  streamed 
through  the  joints  of  the  door.  The  threat  at  length  ap- 
peared to  have  the  desired  effect.  A  poor  decrepit  old 
man  undid  the  bolt  and  let  us  in.  Ohon  a  reel  Ohon  a 
reef  What  make  you  all  this  boder  for — come  you  to 
help  us  to  wake  poor  ould  Kate  there,  and  bring  }^ou  the 
whisky  wid  you?" 

"Old  man,  where  is  Pat  Doolan?"  said  the  lieutenant. 

"Gone  to  borrow  whisky,  to  wake  ould  Kate,  there; — 
the  howling  will  begin  whenever  Mother  Doncannon  and 
Misthress  Conolly  come  over  from  Middleton,  and  I  look 
for  dem  every  minute." 

There  was  no  vestige  of  any  living  thing  in  the  miser- 
able hovel,  except  the  old  fellow.  On  two  low  trestles, 
in  the  middle  of  the  floor,  lay  a  coffin  with  the  lid  on,  on 
the  top  of  which  was  stretched  the  dead  body  of  an  old 
emaciated  woman  in  her  graveclothes,  the  quality  of 
which  was  much  finer  than  one  could  have  expected  to 
have  seen  in  the  midst  of  the  surrounding  squalidness.  The 
face  of  the  corpse  was  uncovered,  the  hands  were  crossed 
on  the  breast,  and  there  was  a  plate  of  salt  on  the  stomach. 

An  iron  cresset,  charged  with  coarse  rancid  oil,  hung 
from  the  roof,  the  dull  smoky  red  light  flickering  on  the 
dead  corpse,  as  the  breeze  streamed  in  through  the  door 
and  numberless  chinks  in  the  walls,  making  the  cold,  rigid, 
sharp  features  appear  to  move,  and  glimmer,  and  gibber 
as  it  were,  from  the  changing  shades.  Close  to  the  head 
there  was  a  small  door  opening  into  an  apartment  of  some 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  TORCH  45 

kind,  but  the  coffin  was  placed  so  near  it  that  one  could 
pass  between  the  body  and  the  door. 

"My  good  man,"  said  Treenail  to  the  solitary  mourner, 
"I  must  beg  leave  to  remove  the  body  a  bit,  and  have  the 
goodness  to  open  that  door." 

"Door,  yere  honour!  It's  no  door  o'  mine — and  it's 
not  opening  that  same  that  old  Phil  Carrol  shall  busy  him- 
self wid." 

"Carline,"  said  Mr.  Treenail,  quick  and  sharp,  "re- 
move the  body."  It  was  done. 

"Cruel  heavy  the  old  dame  is,  sir,  for  all  her  wasted 
appearance,"  said  one  of  the  men. 

The  lieutenant  now  ranged  the  press-gang  against  the 
wall  fronting  the  door,  and  stepping  into  the  middle  of  the 
room,  drew  his  pistol  and  cocked  it.  "Messmates,"  he 
sang  out,  as  if  addressing  the  skulkers  in  the  other  room, 
"I  know  you  are  here;  the  house  is  surrounded — and  un- 
less you  open  that  door  now,  by  the  powers,  but  I'll  fire 
slap  into  you!"  There  was  a  bustle,  and  a  rumbling 
tumbling  noise  within.  "My  lads,  we  are  now  sure  of  our 
game,"  sang  out  Treenail,  with  great  animation;  "sling 
that  clumsy  bench  there."  He  pointed  to  an  oaken  form 
about  eight  feet  long  and  nearly  three  inches  thick.  To 
produce  a  two-inch  rope,  and  junk  it  into  three  lengths, 
and  rig  the  battering  ram,  was  the  work  of  an  instant. 
"One  two,  three," — and  bang  the  door  flew  open,  and 
there  were  our  men  stowed  away,  each  sitting  on  the  top 
of  his  bag,  as  snug  as  could  be,  although  looking  very 
much  like  condemned  thieves.  We  bound  eight  of  them, 
thrusting  a  stretcher  across  their  backs,  under  their  arms, 
and  lashing  the  fins  to  the  same  by  good  stout  lanyards,  we 
were  proceeding  to  stump  our  prisoners  off  to  the  boat, 
when,  with  the  innate  deviltry  that  I  have  inherited,  I 
know  not  how,  but  the  original  sin  of  which  has  more  than 
once  nearly  cost  me  my  life,  I  said,  without  addressing  my 


46  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

superior  officer,  or  any  one  else  directly,  "I  should  like 
now  to  scale  my  pistol  through  that  coffin.  If  I  miss,  I 
can't  hurt  the  old  woman;  and  an  eyelet  hole  in  the  coffin 
itself  will  only  be  an  act  of  civility  to  the  worms." 

I  looked  towards  my  superior  officer,  who  answered  me 
with  a  knowing  shake  of  the  head.  I  advanced,  while  all 
was  silent  as  death — the  sharp  click  of  the  pistol  lock  now 
struck  acutely  on  my  own  ear.  I  presented,  when — crash 
— 'the  lid  of  the  coffin,  old  woman  and  all,  was  dashed  off 
in  an  instant,  the  corpse  flying  up  in  the  air,  and  then  fall- 
ing heavily  on  the  floor,  rolling  over  and  over,  while  a 
tall  handsome  fellow,  in  his  striped  flannel  shirt  and  blue 
trousers,  with  the  sweat  pouring  down  over  his  face  in 
streams,  sat  up  in  the  shell. 

UA11  right,"  said  Mr.  Treenail;  "help  him  out  of  his 
berth." 

He  was  pinioned  like  the  rest,  and  forthwith  we  walked 
them  all  off  to  the  beach.  By  this  time  there  was  an  un- 
usual bustle  in  the  Holy  Ground,  and  we  could  hear  many 
an  anathema — curses  not  loud  but  deep — ejaculated  from 
many  a  half-opened  door  as  we  passed  along.  We  reached 
the  boat,  and  time  it  was  we  did,  for  a  number  of  stout 
fellows,  who  had  followed  us  in  a  gradually  increasing 
crowd  until  they  amounted  to  forty  at  the  fewest,  now 
nearly  surrounded  us,  and  kept  closing  in.  As  the  last  of 
us  jumped  into  the  boat,  they  made  a  rush,  so  that  if  we 
had  not  shoved  off  with  the  speed  of  light,  I  think  it  very 
likely  that  we  should  have  been  overpowered.  However, 
we  reached  the  ship  in  safety,  and  the  day  following  we 
weighed,  and  stood  out  to  sea  with  our  convoy. 

It  was  a  very  large  fleet,  nearly  three  hundred  sail  of 
merchant  vessels — and  a  noble  sight  truly. 

A  line-of-battle  ship  led,  and  two  frigates  and  three 
sloops  of  our  class  were  stationed  on  the  outskirts  of  the 
fleet,  whipping  them  in,  as  it  were.  We  made  Madeira 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  TORCH  47 

in  fourteen  days,  looked  in,  but  did  not  anchor;  superb  is- 
land— magnificent  mountains — white  town, — and  all  very 
fine,  but  nothing  particular  happened  for  three  weeks. 
One  fine  evening  (we  had  by  this  time  progressed  into  the 
trades,  and  were  within  three  hundred  miles  of  Barba- 
does)  the  sun  had  set  bright  and  clear,  after  a  most  beau- 
tiful day,  and  we  were  bowling  along  right  before  it,  roll- 
ing like  the  very  devil;  but  there  was  no  moon,  and  al- 
though the  stars  sparkled  brilliantly,  yet  it  was  dark,  and 
as  we  were  the  sternmost  of  the  men-of-war,  we  had  the 
task  of  whipping  in  the  sluggards.  It  was  my  watch  on 
deck.  A  gun  from  the  commodore,  who  showed  a  num- 
ber of  lights.  "What  is  that,  Mr.  Kennedy?"  said  the 
captain  to  the  old  gunner.  "The  commodore  has  made 
the  night-signal  for  the  sternmost  ships  to  make  more  sail 
and  close,  sir."  We  repeated  the  signal  and  stood  on, 
hailing  the  dullest  of  the  merchantmen  in  our  neighbour- 
hood to  make  more  sail,  and  firing  a  musket-shot  now  and 
then  over  the  more  distant  of  them.  By-and-by  we  saw 
a  large  West  Indiamen  suddenly  haul  her  wind  and  stand 
across  our  bows. 

"Forward  there!"  sung  out  Mr.  Splinter;  "stand  by  to 
fire  a  shot  at  that  fellow  from  the  boat  gun  if  he  does  not 
bear  up.  What  can  he  be  after?  Sergeant  Armstrong" 
— to  a  marine,  who  was  standing  close  by  him  in  the  waist 
— "get  a  musket  and  fire  over  him." 

It  was  done,  and  the  ship  immediately  bore  up  on  her 
course  again;  we  now  ranged  alongside  of  him  on  his  lar- 
board quarter. 

"Ho,  the  ship,  ahoy!"— "Hillo!"  was  the  reply. 
"Make  more  sail,  sir,  and  run  into  the  body  of  the  fleet, 
or  I  shall  fire  into  you :  why  don't  you,  sir,  keep  in  the 
wake  of  the  commodore?"  No  answer.  "What  meant 
you  by  hauling  your  wind  just  now,  sir?" 


48  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

"Yesh,  yesh,"  at  length  responded  a  voice  from  the  mer- 
chantman. 

"Something  wrong  here,"  said  Mr.  Splinter.  "Back 
your  maintopsail,  sir,  and  hoist  a  light  at  the  peak;  I  shall 
send  a  boat  on  board  of  you.  Boatswain's  mate,  pipe 
away  the  crew  of  the  jolly-boat."  We  also  hove  to,  and 
were  in  the  act  of  lowering  down  the  boat,  when  the  offi- 
cer rattled  out — "Keep  all  fast  with  the  boat;  I  can't 
comprehend  that  chap's  manoeuvres  for  the  soul  of  me. 
He  has  not  hove  to."  Once  more  we  were  within  pistol- 
shot  of  him.  "Why  don't  you  heave  to,  sir?"  All  silent. 

Presently  we  could  perceive  a  confusion  and  noise  of 
struggling  on  board,  and  angry  voices,  as  if  people  were 
trying  to  force  their  way  up  the  hatches  from  below ;  and 
a  heavy  thumping  on  the  deck,  and  a  creaking  of  the  blocks, 
and  rattling  of  the  cordage,  while  the  mainyard  was  first 
braced  one  way,  and  then  another,  as  if  two  parties  were 
striving  for  the  mastery.  At  length  a  voice  hailed  dis- 
tinctly— "we  are  captured  by  a ."  A  sudden  sharp 

cry,  and  a  splash  overboard,  told  of  some  fearful  deed. 

"We  are  taken  by  a  privateer  or  pirate,"  sung  out  an- 
other voice.  This  was  followed  by  a  heavy  crunching 
blow,  as  when  the  spike  of  a  butcher's  axe  is  driven  through 
a  bullock's  forehead  deep  into  the  brain. 

By  this  time  all  hands  had  been  called,  and  the  word 
had  been  passed  to  clear  away  two  of  the  foremost  car- 
ronades  on  the  starboard  side,  and  to  load  them  with 
grape. 

"On  board  there — get  below,  all  you  of  the  English 
crew,  as  I  shall  fire  with  grape,'"  sung  out  the  captain. 

The  hint  was  now  taken.  The  ship  at  length  came  to 
the  wind — we  rounded  to,  under  her  lee — and  an  armed 
boat,  with  Mr.  Treenail,  and  myself,  and  sixteen  men, 
with  cutlasses,  were  sent  on  board. 

We  jumped  on  deck,  and  at  the  gangway  Mr.  Treenail 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  TORCH  49 


stumbled  and  fell  over  the  dead  body  of  a  man,  no  doubt 
the  one  who  had  hailed  last,  with  his  skull  cloven  to  the 
eyes,  and  a  broken  cutlass-blade  sticking  in  the  gash.  We 
were  immediately  accosted  by  the  mate,  who  was  lashed 
down  to  a  ring-bolt  close  by  the  bits,  with  his  hands  tied 
at  the  wrists  by  sharp  cords,  so  tightly  that  the  blood  was 
spouting  from  beneath  his  nails. 

"We  have  been  surprised  by  a  privateer  schooner,  sir; 
the  lieutenant  of  her,  and  several  men,  are  now  in  the 
cabin." 

"Where  are  the  rest  of  the  crew?" 

"All  secured  in  the  forecastle,  except  the  second-mate 
and  boatswain,  the  men  who  hailed  you  just  now;  the  last 
was  knocked  on  the  head,  and  the  former  was  stabbed  and 
thrown  overboard." 

We  immediately  released  the  men,  eighteen  in  number, 
and  armed  them  with  boarding-pikes.  "What  vessel  is 
that  astern  of  us?"  said  Treenail  to  the  mate.  Before  he 
could  answer,  a  shot  from  the  brig  fired  at  the  privateer 
showed  she  was  broad  awake.  Next  moment  Captain 
Deadeye  hailed.  "Have  you  mastered  the  prize  crew, 
Mr.  Treenail?"  "Ay,  ay,  sir."  "Then  bear  up  on  your 
course,  and  keep  two  lights  hoisted  at  your  mizzen-peak 
during  the  night,  and  blue  Peter  at  the  maintopsail  yard- 
arm  when  the  day  breaks :  I  shall  haul  my  wind  after  the 
suspicious  sail  in  your  wake." 

Another  shot,  and  another,  from  the  brig — the  time  be- 
tween each  flash  and  the  report  increasing  with  the  dis- 
tance. By  this  the  lieutenant  has  descended  to  the  cabin, 
followed  by  his  people,  while  the  merchant  crew  once  more 
took  charge  of  the  ship,  crowding  sail  into  the  body  of  the 
fleet. 

I  followed  him  close,  pistol  and  cutlass  in  hand,  and  I 
shall  never  forget  the  scene  that  presented  itself  when  I 
entered.  The  cabin  was  that  of  a  vessel  of  five  hundred 


50  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

tons,  elegantly  fitted  up;  the  panels  filled  with  crimson 
cloth,  edged  with  gold  mouldings,  with  superb  damask 
hangings  before  the  stern  windows  and  the  side  berths,  and 
brilliantly  lighted  up  by  the  two  large  swinging-lamps 
hung  from  the  deck  above,  which  were  reflected  from,  and 
multiplied  in,  several  plate-glass  mirrors  in  the  panels.  In 
the  recess,  which  in  cold  weather  had  been  occupied  by  the 
stove,  now  stood  a  splendid  grand  piano,  the  silk  in  the 
open  work  above  the  keys  corresponding  with  the  crimson 
cloth  of  the  panels;  it  was  open,  a  Leghorn  bonnet  with  a 
green  veil,  a  parasol,  and  two  long  white  gloves,  as  if  re- 
cently pulled  off,  lay  on  it,  with  the  very  mould  of  the 
hands  in  them. 

The  rudder  case  was  particularly  beautiful;  it  was  a 
richly  carved  and  gilded  palm-tree,  the  stem  painted  white 
and  interlaced  with  golden  fretwork,  like  the  lozenges  of 
a  pineapple,  while  the  leaves  spread  up  and  abroad  on  the 
roof. 

The  table  was  laid  for  supper,  with  cold  meat,  and  wine, 
and  a  profusion  of  silver  things,  all  sparkling  brightly: 
but  it  was  in  great  disorder,  wine  spilt,  and  glasses  broken, 
and  dishes  with  meat  upset,  and  knives,  and  forks,  and 
spoons,  scattered  all  about.  She  was  evidently  one  of 
those  London  West  Indiamen,  on  board  of  which  I  knew 
there  was  much  splendour  and  great  comfort.  But,  alas, 
the  hand  -of  lawless  violence  had  been  there.  The  cap- 
tain lay  across  the  table,  with  his  head  hanging  over  the 
side  of  it  next  to  us,  and  unable  to  help  himself,  with  his 
hands  tied  behind  his  back,  and  a  gag  in  his  mouth;  his 
face  purple  from  the  blood  running  to  his  head,  and  the 
white  of  his  eyes  turned  up,  while  his  loud  stertorous 
breathing  but  too  clearly  indicated  the  rupture  of  a  vessel 
on  the  brain. 

'He  was  a  stout  portly  man,  and  although  we  released 
him  on  the  instant,  and  had  him  bled,  and  threw  water  on 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  TORCH  51 

his  face,  and  did  all  we  could  for  him,  he  never  spoke  after- 
wards, and  died  in  half  an  hour. 

Four  gentlemanly-looking  men  were  sitting  at  table, 
lashed  to  their  chairs,  pale  and  trembling,  while  six  of  the 
most  ruffian-looking  scoundrels  I  ever  beheld  stood  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  table  in  a  row  fronting  us,  with  the 
light  from  the  lamps  shining  full  on  them.  Three  of 
them  were  small  but  very  square  mulattoes;  one  was  a 
South  American  Indian,  with  the  square  high-boned  vis- 
age and  long,  lank,  black  glossy  hair  of  his  caste.  These 
four  had  no  clothing  besides  their  trousers,  and  stood  with 
their  arms  folded,  in  all  the  calmness  of  desperate  men 
caught  in  the  very  fact  of  some  horrible  atrocity,  which 
they  knew  shut  out  every  hope  of  mercy.  The  two  others 
were  white  Frenchmen,  tall,  bushy-whiskered,  sallow  des- 
peradoes, but  still,  wonderful  to  relate,  with,  if  I  may  so 
speak,  the  manners  of  gentlemen.  One  of  them  squinted, 
and  had  a  hare-lip,  which  gave  him  a  horrible  expression. 
They  were  dressed  in  white  trousers  and  shirts,  yellow 
silk  sashes  round  their  waists,  and  a  sort  of  blue  uniform 
jackets,  blue  Gascon  caps,  with  the  peaks,  from  each  of 
which  depended  a  large  bullion  tassel,  hanging  down  on 
one  side  of  their  heads.  The  whole  party  had  apparently 
made  up  their  minds  that  resistance  was  vain,  for  their 
pistols  and  cutlasses,  some  of  them  bloody,  had  all  been 
laid  on  the  table,  with  the  butts  and  handles  towards  us, 
contrasting  horribly  with  the  glittering  equipage  of  steel, 
and  crystal,  and  silver  things,  on  the  snow-white  damask 
tablecloth.  They  were  immediately  seized  and  ironed,  to 
which  they  submitted  in  silence.  We  next  released  the 
passengers,  and  were  overpowered  with  thanks,  one  danc- 
ing, one  crying,  one  laughing,  and  another  praying.  But, 
merciful  Heaven !  what  an  object  met  our  eyes !  Draw- 
ing aside  the  curtain  that  concealed  a  sofa  fitted  into  a 
recess,  there  lay,  more  dead  than  alive,  a  tall  and  most 


52  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

beautiful  girl,  her  head  resting  on  her  arm,  her  clothes 
disordered  and  torn,  blood  on  her  bosom,  and  foam  on 
her  mouth,  with  her  long  dark  hair  loose  and  dishevelled, 
and  covering  the  upper  part  of  her  deadly  pale  face, 
through  which  her  wild  sparkling  black  eyes,  protruding 
from  their  sockets,  glanced  and  glared  with  the  fire  of  a 
maniac's,  while  her  blue  lips  kept  gibbering  an  incoherent 
prayer  one  moment,  and  the  next  imploring  mercy,  as  if 
she  had  still  been  in  the  hands  of  those  who  knew  not  the 
name;  and  anon,  a  low  hysterical  laugh  made  our  very 
blood  freeze  in  our  bosoms,  which  soon  ended  in  a  long 
dismal  yell,  as  she  rolled  off  the  couch  upon  the  hard  deck, 
and  lay  in  a  dead  faint. 

Alas  the  day! — a  maniac  she  was  from  that  hour.  She 
was  the  only  daughter  of  the  murdered  master  of  the  ship, 
and  never  awoke,  in  her  unclouded  reason,  to  the  fearful 
consciousness  of  her  own  dishonour  and  her  parent's 
death. 

The  Torch  captured  the  schooner,  and  we  left  the  pri- 
vateer's men  at  Barbadoes  to  meet  their  reward,  and  sev- 
eral of  the  merchant  sailors  were  turned  over  to  the  guard- 
ship,  to  prove  the  facts  in  the  first  instance,  and  to  serve 
his  Majesty  as  impressed  men  in  the  second, — but  scrimp 
measure  of  justice  to  the  poor  ship's  crew. 

Anchored  at  Carlisle  Bay,  Barbadoes.  Town  seemed 
built  of  cards — black  faces — showy  dresses  of  the  negroes 
—dined  at  Mr.  C 's — capital  dinner — little  breeze- 
mill  at  the  end  of  the  room,  that  pumped  a  solution  of 
salpetre  and  water  into  a  trough  of  tin,  perforated  with 
small  holes,  below  which,  and  exposed  to  the  breeze,  were 
ranged  the  wine  and  liqueurs,  all  in  cotton  bags;  the  water 
then  flowed  into  a  well,  where  the  pump  was  stepped,  and 
thus  was  again  pumped  up  and  kept  circulating. 

Landed  the  artillery,  the  soldiers,  officers,  and  the 
Spanish  Canon — discharged  the  whole  battery. 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  TORCH  53 

Next  morning,  weighed  at  day-dawn,  with  the  trade  for 
Jamaica,  and  soon  lost  sight  of  the  bright  blue  waters  of 
Carlisle  Bay,  and  the  smiling  fields  and  tall  cocoanut  trees 
of  the  beautiful  island.  In  a  week  after  we  arrived  off 
the  east  end  of  Jamaica;  and  that  same  evening,  in  obe- 
dience to  the  orders  of  the  admiral  on  the  windward  Is- 
land station,  we  hove  to  in  Bull  Bay,  in  order  to  land  des- 
patches, and  secure  our  tithe  of  the  crews  of  the  merchant- 
vessels  bound  for  Kingston,  and  the  ports  to  leeward,  as 
they  passed  us.  We  had  fallen  in  with  a  pilot  canoe  of 
Morant  Bay  with  four  negroes  on  board,  who  requested  us 
to  hoist  in  their  boat,  and  take  them  all  on  board,  as  the 
pilot  schooner  to  which  they  belonged  had  that  morning 
bore  up  for  Kingston,  and  left  instructions  to  them  to  fol- 
low her  in  the  first  vessel  appearing  afterwards.  We  did 
so,  and  now,  as  it  was  getting  dark,  the  captain  came  up  to 
Mr.  Treenail. 

"Why,  Mr.  Treenail,  I  think  we  had  better  heave  to  for 
the  night,  and  in  this  case  I  shall  want  you  to  go  in  the 
cutter  to  Port  Royal  to  deliver  the  despatches  on  board 
the  flag-ship. 

"I  don't  think  the  admiral  will  be  at  Port  Royal,  sir," 
responded  the  lieutenant;  "and,  if  I  might  suggest,  those 
black  chaps  have  offered  to  take  me  ashore  here  on  the 
Palisadoes,  a  narrow  spit  of  land,  not  above  one  hundred 
yards  across,  that  divides  the  harbour  from  the  ocean,  and 
to  haul  the  canoe  across,  and  take  me  to  the  agent's  house 
in  Kingston,  who  will  doubtless  frank  me  up  to  the  pen 
where  the  admiral  resides,  and  I  shall  thus  deliver  the  let- 
ters, and  be  back  again  by  day-dawn." 

"Not  a  bad  plan,"  said  old  Deadeye;  "put  it  in  execu- 
tion, and  I  will  go  below  and  get  the  despatches  immedi- 
ately." 

The  canoe  was  once  more  hoisted  out;  the  three  black 


54  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

fellows,  the  pilot  of  the  ship  continuing  on  board,  jumped 
into  her  alongside. 

uHad  you  not  better  take  a  couple  of  hands  with  you, 
Mr.  Treenail?"  said  the  skipper. 

"Why,  no,  sir,  I  don't  think  I  shall  want  them;  but  if 
you  will  spare  me  Mr.  Cringle  I  will  be  obliged,  in  case 
I  want  any  help." 

We  shoved  off,  and  as  the  glowing  sun  dipped  under 
Portland  Point,  as  the  tongue  of  land  that  runs  out  about 
four  miles  to  the  southward,  on  the  western  side  of  Port 
Royal  harbour,  is  called,  we  arrived  within  a  hundred 
yards  of  the  Pallsadoes.  The  surf,  at  the  particular  spot 
we  steered  for,  did  not  break  on  the  shore  in  a  rolling 
curling  wave,  as  it  usually  does,  but  smoothed  away  under 
the  lee  of  a  small  sandy  promontory  that  ran  out  into  the 
sea,  about  half  a  cable's  length  to  windward,  and  then  slid 
up  the  smooth  white  sand  without  breaking,  in  a  deep 
clear  green  swell,  for  the  space  of  twenty  yards,  gradually 
shoaling,  the  colour  becoming  lighter  and  lighter  until  it 
frothed  away  in  a  shallow  white  fringe,  that  buzzed  as  it 
receded  back  into  the  deep  green  sea,  until  it  was  again 
propelled  forward  by  the  succeeding  billow. 

"I  say,  friend  Bungo,  how  shall  we  manage?  You 
don't  mean  to  swamp  us  in  a  shove  through  that  surf,  do 
you?"  said  Mr.  Treenail. 

uNo  fear,  massa,  if  you  and  toder  leetle  man-of-war 
buccra  only  keep  dem  seat  when  we  rise  on  de  crest  of  de 
swell  dere." 

We  sat  quiet  enough.  Treenail  was  coolness  itself,  and 
I  aped  him  as  well  as  I  could.  The  loud  murmur,  increas- 
ing to  a  roar,  of  the  sea,  was  trying  enough  as  we  ap- 
proached, buoyed  on  the  last  long  undulation. 

"Now  sit  still,  massa,  bote." 

We  sank  down  into  the  trough,  and  presently  were  hove 
forwards  with  a  smooth  sliding  motion  up  on  the  beach — 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  TORCH  55 

until  grit,  grit,  we  stranded  on  the  cream-coloured  sand, 
high  and  dry. 

uNow,  jomp,  massa,  jomp." 

We  leapt  with  all  our  strength,  and  thereby  toppled 
down  on  our  noses;  the  sea  receded,  and  before  the  next 
billow  approached  we  had  run  the  canoe  twenty  yards 
beyond  high-water  mark. 

It  was  the  work  of  a  very  few  minutes  to  haul  the 
canoe  across  the  sand-bank,  and  to  launch  it  once  more  in 
the  placid  waters  of  the  harbour  of  Kingston.  We  pulled 
across  towards  the  town,  until  we  landed  at  the  bottom  of 
Hanover  Street ;  the  lights  from  the  cabin  windows  of  the 
merchantmen  glimmering  as  we  passed,  and  the  town  only 
discernible  from  a  solitary  sparkle  here  and  there.  But 
the  contrast  when  we  landed  was  very  striking.  We  had 
come  through  the  darkness  of  the  night  in  comparative 
quietness ;  and  in  two  hours  from  the  time  we  had  left  the 
old  Torch,  we  were  transferred  from  her  orderly  deck  to 
the  bustle  of  a  crowded  town. 

One  of  our  crew  undertook  to  be  the  guide  to  the  agent's 
house.  We  arrived  before  it.  It  was  a  large  mansion, 
and  we  could  see  lights  glimmering  in  the  ground-floor; 
but  it  was  gaily  lit  up  aloft.  The  house  itself  stood  back 
about  twenty  feet  from  the  street,  from  which  it  was 
separated  by  an  iron  railing. 

We  knocked  at  the  outer  gate,  but  no  one  answered. 
At  length  our  black  guide  found  out  a  bell-pull,  and  pre- 
sently the  clang  of  a  bell  resounded  throughout  the  man- 
sion. Still  no  one  answered.  I  pushed  against  the  door, 
and  found  it  was  open,  and  Mr.  Treenail  and  myself  im- 
mediately ascended  a  flight  of  six  marble  steps,  and  stood 
in  the  lower  piazza,  with  the  hall,  or  vestibule,  before  us. 
We  entered.  A  very  well-dressed  brown  woman,  who 
was  sitting  at  her  work  at  a  small  table,  along  with  two 


56  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

young  girls  of  the  same  complexion,  instantly  rose  to  re- 
ceive us. 

"Beg  pardon,"  said  Mr.  Treenail,  "pray,  is  this  Mr. 
's  house  ?" 

"Yes,  sir,  it  is." 

"Will  you  have  the  goodness  to  say  if  he  be  at  home?" 

"Oh  yes,  sir,  he  is  dere  upon  dinner  wid  company,"  said 
the  lady. 

"Well,"  continued  the  lieutenant,  "say  to  him,  that  an 
officer  of  his  Majesty's  sloop  Torch  is  below,  with  des- 
patches for  the  admiral." 

"Surely,  sir, — surely,"  the  dark  lady  continued;  "Follow 
me,  sir;  and  dat  small  gentleman  [Thomas  Cringle,  Es- 
quire, no  less!] — him  will  better  follow  me  too." 

We  left  the  room,  and  turning  to  <:he  right,  landed  in 
the  lower  piazza  of  the  house,  fronting  the  north.  A  large 
clumsy  stair  occupied  the  eastermost  end,  with  a  massive 
mahogany  balustrade,  but  the  whole  affair  below  was  very 
ill  lighted.  The  brown  lady  preceded  us;  and,  planting 
herself  at  the  bottom  of  the  staircase,  began  to  shout  to 
some  one  above — 

"Toby! — Toby! — buccra  gentlemen  arrive,  Toby." 
But  no  Toby  responded  to  the  call. 

"My  dear  madam,"  said  Treenail,  "I  have  little  time 
for  ceremony.  Pray  usher  us  up  into  Mr. 's  presence." 

"Den  follow  me,  gentlemen,  please." 

Forthwith  we  all  ascended  the  dark  staircase  until  we 
reached  the  first  landing-place,  when  we  heard  a  noise  as 
of  two  negroes  wrangling  on  the  steps  above  us. 

"You  rascal!"  sang  out  one,  "take  dat;  larn  you  for 
teal  my  wittal!" — then  a  sharp  crack,  as  if  he  had  smote 
the  culprit  across  the  pate ;  whereupon,  like  a  shot,  a  black 
fellow,  in  a  handsome  livery,  trundled  down,  pursued  by 
another  servant  with  a  large  silver  ladle  in  his  hand,  with 
which  he  was  belabouring  the  fugitive  over  his  flint-hard 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  TORCH  57 

skull,  right  against  our  hostess,  with  the  drumstick  of  a 
turkey  in  his  hand,  or  rather  in  his  mouth. 

"Top,  you  tief! — top,  you  tief! — for  me  piece  dat," 
shouted  the  pursuer. 

"You  dam  rascal!"  quoth  the  dame.  But  she  had  no 
time  to  utter  another  word,  before  the  fugitive  pitched, 
with  all  his  weight,  against  her;  and  at  the  very  moment 
another  servant  came  trundling  down  with  a  large  tray 
full  of  all  kinds  of  meats — and  I  especially  remember  that 
two  large  crystal  stands  of  jellies  composed  part  of  his 
load — so  there  we  were  regularly  capsized,  and  caught 
all  of  a  heap  in  the  dark  landing-place,  halfway  up  the 
stair;  and  down  the  other  flight  tumbled  our  guide,  with 
Mr.  Treenail  and  myself,  and  the  two  blackies  on  the  top 
of  her,  rolling  in  our  descent  over,  or  rather  into,  another 
large  mahogany  tray  which  had  just  been  carried  out, 
with  a  tureen  of  turtle  soup  in  it,  and  a  dish  of  roast-beef, 
and  platefuls  of  land-crabs,  and  the  Lord  knows  what 
all  besides. 

The  crash  reached  the  ear  of  the  landlord,  who  was 
seated  at  the  head  of  his  table  in  the  upper  piazza,  a  long 
gallery  about  fifty  feet  long  by  fourteen  wide,  and  he  im- 
mediately rose  and  ordered  his  butler  to  take  a  light. 
When  he  came  down  to  ascertain  the  cause  of  the  uproar. 
I  shall  never  forget  the  scene. 

There  was,  first  of  all,  mine  host,  a  remarkably  neat 
personage,  standing  on  the  polished  mahogany  stair,  three 
steps  above  his  servant,  who  was  a  very  well-dressed  re- 
spectable elderly  negro,  with  a  candle  in  each  hand;  and 
beneath  him,  on  the  landing-place,  lay  two  trays  of  viands, 
broken  tureens  of  soup,  fragments  of  dishes,  and  fractured 
glasses,  and  a  chaos  of  eatables  and  drinkables,  and  table 
gear  scattered  all  about,  amidst  which  lay  scrambling  my 
lieutenant  and  myself,  the  brown  housekeeper,  and  the 
two  negro  servants,  all  more  or  less  covered  with  gravy 


58  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

and  wine  dregs.  However,  after  a  good  laugh,  we 
gathered  ourselves  up,  and  at  length  we  were  ushered  on 
the  scene.  Mine  host,  after  stifling  his  laughter  the  best 
way  he  could,  again  sat  down  at  the  head  of  his  table, 
sparkling  with  crystal  and  wax-lights,  while  a  superb  lamp 
hung  overhead.  The  company  was  composed  chiefly  of 
naval  and  military  men,  but  there  was  also  a  sprinkling 
of  civilians,  or  muftees,  to  use  a  West  India  expression. 
Most  of  them  rose  as  we  entered,  and  after  they  had  taken 
a  glass  of  wine,  and  had  their  laugh  at  our  mishap,  our 
landlord  retired  to  one  side  with  Mr.  Treenail,  while  I, 
poor  little  middy  as  I  was,  remained  standing  at  the  end 
of  the  room,  close  to  the  head  of  the  stairs.  The  gentle- 
man who  sat  at  the  foot  of  the  table  had  his  back  towards 
me,  and  was  not  at  first  aware  of  my  presence.  But  the 
guest  at  his  right  hand,  a  happy-looking,  red-faced,  well- 
dressed  man,  soon  drew  his  attention  towards  me.  The 
party  to  whom  I  was  thus  indebted  seemed  a  very  jovial- 
looking  personage,  and  appeared  to  be  well  known  to  all 
hands,  and  indeed  the  life  of  the  party,  for,  like  Falstaff, 
he  was  not  only  witty  in  himself,  but  the  cause  of  wit  in 
others. 

The  gentleman  to  whom  he  had  pointed  me  out  im- 
mediately rose,  made  his  bow,  ordered  a  chair,  and  made 
room  for  me  beside  himself,  where,  the  moment  it  was 
known  that  we  were  direct  from  home,  such  a  volley  of 
questions  was  fired  off  at  me  that  I  did  not  know  which  to 
answer  first.  At  length,  after  Treenail  had  taken  a  glass 
or  two  of  wine,  the  agent  started  him  off  to  the  admiral's 
pen  in  his  own  gig,  and  I  was  desired  to  stay  where  I  was 
until  he  returned. 

The  whole  party  seemed  very  happy,  my  boon  ally  was 
fun  itself,  and  I  was  much  entertained  with  the  mess  he 
made  when  any  of  the  foreigners  at  table  addressed  him  in 
French  or  Spanish.  I  was  particularly  struck  with  a  small, 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  TORCH  59 

thin,  dark  Spaniard,  who  told  very  feelingly  how  the  night 
before,  on  returning  home  from  a  party  to  his  own  lodg- 
ings, on  passing  through  the  piazza,  he  stumbled  against 
something  heavy  that  lay  in  his  grass-hammock,  which 
usually  hung  there.  He  called  for  a  light,  when,  to 
his  horror,  he  found  the  body  of  his  old  and  faith- 
ful valet  lying  in  it,  dead  and  cold,  with  a  knife 
sticking  under  his  fifth  rib  —  no  doubt  intended  for 
his  master.  The  speaker  was  Bolivar.  About  mid- 
night, Mr.  Treenail  returned,  we  shook  hands  with 
Mr.  -  — ,  and  once  more  shoved  off;  and,  guided  by  the 
lights  shown  on  board  the  Torch  we  were  safe  home  again 
by  three  in  the  morning,  when  we  immediately  made  sail, 
and  nothing  particular  happened  until  we  arrived  within 
a  day's  sail  of  New  Providence.  It  seemed  that,  about  a 
week  before,  a  large  American  brig,  bound  from  Havana 
to  Boston  had  been  captured  in  this  very  channel  by  one 
of  our  men-of-war  schooners,  and  carried  into  Nassau;  out 
of  which  port,  for  their  own  security,  the  authorities  had 
fitted  a  small  schooner,  carrying  six  guns  and  twenty-four 
men.  She  was  commanded  by  a  very  gallant  fellow — there 
is  no  disputing  that — and  he  must  needs  emulate  the  con- 
duct of  the  officer  who  had  made  the  capture;  for  in  a  fine 
clear  night,  when  all  the  officers  were  below  rummaging 
in  their  kits  for  the  killing  things  they  should  array  them- 
selves in  on  the  morrow,  so  as  to  smite  the  Fair  of  New 
Providence  to  the  heart  at  a  blow — Whiss — a  shot  flew 
over  our  mast-head. 

"A  small  schooner  lying  to  right  ahead,  sir,"  sang  out 
the  boatswain  from  the  forecastle. 

Before  we  could  beat  to  quarters,  another  sang  between 
our  masts.  We  kept  steadily  on  our  course,  and  as  we 
approached  our  pigmy  antagonist,  he  bore  up.  Presently 
we  were  alongside  of  him. 

''Heave  to,"  hailed  the  strange  sail;  "heave  to,  or  I'll 


60  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

sink  you."     The  devil  you  will,  you  midge,  thought  I. 

The  captain  took  the  trumpet — "Schooner,  ahoy" — no 
answer — "D — n  your  blood,  sir,  if  you  don't  let  every- 
thing go  by  the  run  this  instant,  I'll  fire  a  broadside.  Strike, 
sir,  to  his  Britannic  Majesty's  sloop  Torch." 

The  poor  fellow  commanding  the  schooner  had  by  this 
time  found  out  his  mistake,  and  immediately  came  on 
board,  where,  instead  of  being  lauded  for  his  gallantry,  I 
am  sorry  to  say  he  was  roundly  rated  for  his  want  of  dis- 
cernment in  mistaking  his  Majesty's  cruiser  for  a  Yankee 
merchantman.  Next  forenoon  we  arrived  at  Nassau. 

In  a  week  after  we  again  sailed  for  Bermuda,  having 
taken  on  board  ten  American  skippers,  and  several  other 
Yankees,  as  prisoners  of  war. 

For  the  first  three  days  after  we  cleared  the  Passages, 
we  had  fine  weather — wind  at  east-south-east;  but  after 
that  it  came  on  to  blow  from  the  north-west,  and  so  con- 
tinued without  intermission  during  the  whole  of  the  pas- 
sage to  Bermuda.  On  the  fourth  morning  after  we  left 
Nassau,  we  descried  a  sail  in  the  south-east  quarter,  and 
immediately  made  sail  in  chase.  We  overhauled  her 
about  noon;  she  hove  to,  after  being  fired  at  repeatedly; 
and,  on  boarding  her,  we  found  she  was  a  Swede  from 
Charleston,  bound  to  Havre-de-Grace.  All  the  letters  we 
could  find  on  board  were  very  unceremoniously  broken 
open,  and  nothing  having  transpired  that  could  identify 
the  cargo  as  enemy's  property,  we  were  bundling  over  the 
side,  when  a  nautical-looking  subject,  who  had  attracted 
my  attention  from  the  first,  put  in  his  oar. 

"Lieutenant,"  said  he,  "will  you  allow  me  to  put  this 
barrel  of  New  York  apples  into  the  boat  as  a  present  to 
Captain  Deadeye,  from  Captain  *  *  *  of  the  United 
States  navy?" 

Mr.  Treenail  bowed,  and  said  he  would;  and  we  shoved 
off  and  got  on  board  again,  and  now  there  was  the  devil  to 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  TORCH  61 

pay,  from  the  perplexity  old  Deadeye  was  thrown  into,  as 
to  whether,  here  in  the  heat  of  the  American  war,  he  was 
bound  to  take  this  American  captain  prisoner  or  not.  I 
was  no  party  to  the  councils  of  my  superiors,  of  course, 
but  the  foreign  ship  was  finally  allowed  to  continue  her 
course. 

The  next  day  I  had  the  forenoon  watch;  the  weather 
had  lulled  unexpectedly  nor  was  there  much  sea,  and  the 
deck  was  all  alive,  to  take  advantage  of  the  fine  blink, 
when  the  man  at  the  mast-head  sang  out — '"Breakers 
right  ahead,  sir." 

"Breakers !"  said  Mr.  Splinter,  in  great  astonishment. 
"Breakers  ! — why,  the  man  must  be  mad !  I  say,  Jenkins 


'Breakers  close  under  the  bows,"  sang  out  the  boat- 

rain  from  forward. 

"The  devil!"  quoth  Splinter,  and  he  ran  along  the 
gangway,  and  ascended  the  forecastle,  while  I  kept  close 
to  his  heels.  We  looked  out  ahead,  and  there  we  cer- 
tainly did  see  a  splashing,  and  boiling,  and  white  foam- 
ing of  the  ocean,  that  unquestionably  looked  very  like 
breakers.  Gradually,  this  splashing  and  foaming  appear- 
ance took  a  circular  whisking  shape,  as  if  the  clear  green 
sea,  for  a  space  of  a  hundred  yards  in  diameter,  had  been 
stirred  about  by  a  gigantic  invisible  spurtle,  until  every- 
thing hissed  again ;  and  the  curious  part  of  it  was,  that  the 
agitation  of  the  water  seemed  to  keep  ahead  of  us,  as  if  the 
breeze  which  impelled  us  had  also  floated  it  onwards.  At 
length  the  whirling  circle  of  white  foam  ascended  higher 
and  higher,  and  then  gradually  contracted  itself  into  a 
spinning  black  tube,  which  wavered  about  for  all  the  world 
like  a  gigantic  loch-leech  held  by  the  tail  between  the  finger 
and  thumb,  while  it  was  poking  its  vast  snout  about  in 
the  clouds  in  search  of  a  spot  to  fasten  on. 


62  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

"Is  the  boat-gun  on  the  forecastle  loaded?"  said  Cap- 
tain Deadeye. 

"It  is,  sir." 

"Then  luff  a  bit— that  will  do— fire." 

The  gun  was  discharged,  and  down  rushed  the  black 
wavering  pillar  in  a  watery  avalanche,  and  in  a  minute 
after  the  dark  heaving  billows  rolled  over  the  spot  where- 
out  it  arose,  as  if  no  such  thing  had  ever  been. 

This  said  troubling  of  the  waters  was  neither  more  nor 
less  than  a  waterspout,  which  again  is  neither  more  nor 
less  than  a  whirlwind  at  sea,  which  gradually  whisks  the 
water  round  and  round,  and  up  and  up,  as  you  see  straws 
so  raised,  until  it  reaches  a  certain  height,  when  it  invari- 
ably breaks.  Before  this  I  had  thought  that  waterspout 
was  created  by  some  next  to  supernatural  exertion  of  the 
power  of  the  Deity,  in  order  to  suck  up  water  into  the 
clouds,  that  they,  like  the  wine-skins  in  Spain,  might  be 
filled  with  rain. 

The  morning  after,  the  weather  was  clear  and  beauti- 
ful, although  the  wind  blew  half  a  gale.  Nothing  partic- 
ular happened  until  about  seven  o'clock  in  the  evening. 
I  had  been  invited  to  dine  with  the  gunroom  officers  this 
day,  and  every  thing  was  going  on  smooth  and  comfort- 
able, when  Mr.  Splinter  spoke.  "  I  say,  master,  don't 
you  smell  gunpowder?" 

"  Yes,  I  do,"  said  the  little  master,  "  or  something 
deuced  like  it." 

To  explain  the  particular  comfort  of  our  position,  it 
may  be  right  to  mention  that  the  magazine  of  a  brig  sloop 
is  exactly  under  the  gunroom.  Three  of  the  American 
skippers  had  been  quartered  on  the  gunroom  mess,  and 
they  were  all  at  table.  Snuff,  snuff,  smelled  one,  and  an- 
other sniffled, — "  Gunpowder,  I  guess,  and  in  a  state  of 
ignition." 

"Will  you  not  send  for  the  gunner,  sir?"  said  the 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  TORCH  63 

third.  Splinter  did  not  like  it,  I  saw,  and  this  quailed 
me. 

The  captain's  bell  rang.  "  What  smell  of  brimstone 
is  that,  steward?" 

"  I  really  can't  tell,"  said  the  man,  trembling  from  head 
to  foot;  "  Mr.  Splinter  has  sent  for  the  gunner,  sir." 

"  The  devil!"  said  Deadeye,  as  he  hurried  on  deck. 
We  all  followed.  A  search  was  made. 

"  Some  matches  have  caught  in  the  magazine,"  said 
one. 

"  We  shall  be  up  and  away  like  sky-rockets,"  said 
another. 

Several  of  the  American  masters  ran  out  on  the  jib- 
boom,  coveting  the  temporary  security  of  being  so  far 
removed  from  the  seat  of  the  expected  explosion,  and  all 
was  alarm  and  confusion,  until  it  was  ascertained  that 
two  of  the  boys,  little  sky-larking  vagabonds,  had  stolen 
some  pistol  cartridges,  and  had  been  making  lightning, 
as  it  is  called,  by  holding  a  lighted  candle  between  the 
fingers,  and  putting  some  loose  powder  into  the  palm  of 
the  hand,  then  chucking  it  up  into  the  flame.  They  got 
a  sound  flogging,  on  a  very  unpoetical  part  of  their  cor- 
puses,  and  once  more  the  ship  subsided  into  her  usual 
orderly  discipline.  The  northwester  still  continued,  with 
a  clear  blue  sky,  without  a  cloud  overhead  by  day,  and  a 
bright  cold  moon  by  night.  It  blew  so  hard  for  the  three 
succeeding  days,  that  we  could  not  carry  more  than  close- 
reefed  topsails  to  it,  and  a  reefed  foresail.  Indeed, 
towards  six  bells  in  the  forenoon  watch  of  the  third  day, 
it  came  thundering  down  with  such  violence,  and  the  sea 
increased  so  much,  that  we  had  to  hand  the  foretopsail. 

This  was  by  no  means  an  easy  job.  "  Ease  her  a  bit," 
said  the  first  lieutenant,—"  there — shake  the  wind  out  of 
her  sails  for  a  moment,  until  the  men  get  the  canvas  in" 
whirl,  a  poor  fellow  pitched  off  the  lee  foreyardarm 


64  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

into  the  sea.  "  Up  with  the  helm  —  heave  him  the  bight 
of  a  rope."  We  kept  away,  but  all  was  confusion,  until 
an  American  midshipman,  one  of  the  prisoners  on  board, 
hove  the  bight  of  a  rope  at  him.  The  man  got  it  under 
his  arms,  and  after  hauling  him  along  for  a  hundred 
yards  at  the  least  —  and  one  may  judge  of  the  velocity 
with  which  he  was  dragged  through  the  water,  by  the  fact 
that  it  took  the  united  strain  of  ten  powerful  men  to  get 
him  in  —  he  was  brought  safely  on  board,  pale  and  blue, 
when  we  found  that  the  running  of  the  rope  had  crushed 
in  his  broad  chest,  below  his  arms,  as  if  it  had  been  a 
girl's  waist,  indenting  the  very  muscles  of  it  and  of  his 
back  half  an  inch  deep.  He  had  to  be  bled  before  he 
could  breathe,  and  it  was  an  hour  before  the  circulation 
could  be  restored,  by  the  joint  exertions  of  the  surgeon 
and  gunroom  steward,  chafing  him  with  spirits  and  cam- 
phor, after  he  had  been  stripped  and  stowed  away  be- 
tween the  blankets  in  his  hammock. 

The  same  afternoon  we  fell  in  with  a  small  prize  to 
the  squadron  in  the  Chesapeake,  a  dismantled  schooner, 
manned  by  a  prize  crew  of  a  midshipman  and  six  men. 
She  had  a  signal  of  distress,  an  American  ensign,  with 
the  union  down,  hoisted  on  the  jury-mast,  across  which 
there  was  rigged  a  solitary  lug-sail.  It  was  blowing  so 
hard  that  we  had  some  difficulty  in  boarding  her,  when 
we  found  she  was  a  Baltimore  pilot-boat-built  schooner, 
of  about  70  tons  burden,  laden  with  flour,  and  bound  for 
Bermuda.  But  three  days  before,  in  a  sudden  squall,  they 
had  carried  away  both  masts  short  by  the  board,  and  the 
only  spar  which  they  had  been  able  to  rig,  was  a  spare 
topmast  which  they  had  jammed  into  one  of  the  pumps 
—  fortunately  she  was  as  tight  as  a  bottle  —  and  stayed 
it  the  best  way  they  could.  The  captain  offered  to  take 
the  little  fellow  who  had  charge  of  her,  and  his  crew  and 
cargo,  on  board,  and  then  scuttle  her;  but  no  —  all  he 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  TORCH  65 

wanted  was  a  cask  of  water  and  some  biscuit;  and  having 
had  a  glass  of  grog,  he  trundled  over  the  side  again,  and 
returned  to  his  desolate  command.  However,  he  after- 
wards brought  his  prize  safe  into  Bermuda. 

The  weather  still  continued  very  rough,  but  we  saw 
nothing  until  the  second  evening  after  this.  The  fore- 
noon had  been  even  more  boisterous  than  any  of  the  pre- 
ceding, and  we  were  all  fagged  enough  with  "  make  sail," 
and  "  shorten  sail,"  and  "  all  hands,"  the  whole  day 
through;  and  as  the  night  fell,  I  found  myself,  for  the 
fourth  time,  in  the  maintop.  The  men  had  just  lain  in 
from  the  maintopsail  yard,  when  we  heard  the  watch 
called  on  deck,  —  "Starboard  watch,  ahoy!"  —  which 
was  a  cheery  sound  to  us  of  the  larboard,  who  were  thus 
released  from  duty  on  deck,  and  allowed  to  go  below. 

The  men  were  scrambling  down  the  weather  shrouds, 
and  I  was  preparing  to  follow  them,  when  I  jammed  my 
left  foot  in  the  grating  of  the  top,  and  capsized  on  my 
nose.  I  had  been  up  nearly  the  whole  of  the  previous 
night,  and  on  deck  the  whole  of  the  day,  and  actively  em- 
ployed too,  as  during  the  greater  part  of  it  it  blew  a  gale. 
I  stooped  down  in  some  pain,  to  see  what  had  bolted 
me  to  the  grating;  but  I  had  no  sooner  extricated  my  foot, 
than,  over-worked  and  over-fatigued  as  I  was,  I  fell  over 
in  the  soundest  sleep  that  ever  I  have  enjoyed  before  or 
since,  the  back  of  my  neck  resting  on  a  coil  of  rope,  so 
that  my  head  hung  down  within  it. 

The  rain  all  this  time  was  beating  on  me,  and  I  was 
drenched  to  the  skin.  I  must  have  slept  for  four  hours 
or  so,  when  I  was  awakened  by  a  rough  thump  on  the  side 
from  the  stumbling  foot  of  the  captain  of  the  top,  the 
word  having  been  passed  to  shake  a  reef  out  of  the  top- 
sails, the  wind  having  rather  suddenly  gone  down.  It  was 
done;  and  now  broad  awake,  I  determined  not  to  be 
caught  napping  again,  so  I  descended,  and  swung  myself 


66  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

in  on  deck  out  of  the  main  rigging,  just  as  Mr.  Treenail 
was  mustering  the  crew  at  eight  bells.  When  I  landed  on 
the  quarterdeck,  there  he  stood  abaft  the  binnacle,  with 
the  light  shining  on  his  face,  his  glazed  hat  glancing,  and 
the  rain-drop  sparkling  at  the  brim  of  it.  He  had  noticed 
me  the  moment  I  descended. 

"  Heyday,  Master  Cringle,  you  are  surely  out  of  your 
watch.  Why,  what  are  you  doing  here,  eh?" 

I  stepped  up  to  him,  and  told  him  the  truth,  that,  being 
overfatigued,  I  had  fallen  asleep  in  the  top. 

u  Well,  well,  boy,"  said  he,  "  never  mind,  go  below, 
and  turn  in ;  if  you  don't  take  your  rest,  you  never  will  be 
a  sailor." 

"But  what  do  you  see  aloft?"  glancing  his  eye  up- 
wards, and  all  the  crew  on  deck,  as  I  passed  them,  looked 
anxiously  up  also  amongst  the  rigging,  as  if  wondering 
what  I  saw  there,  for  I  had  been  so  chilled  in  my  snoose, 
that  my  neck,  from  resting  in  the  cold  on  the  coil  of  rope, 
had  become  stiffened  and  rigid  to  an  intolerable  degree; 
and  although,  when  I  first  came  on  deck,  I  had,  by  a 
strong  exertion,  brought  my  caput  to  its  proper  bearings, 
yet  the  moment  I  was  dismissed  by  my  superior  officer, 
I  for  my  own  comfort  was  glad  to  conform  to  the  con- 
traction of  the  muscle,  whereby  I  once  more  strayed  along 
the  deck,  glowering  up  into  the  heavens,  as  if  I  had  seen 
some  wonderful  sight  there. 

1  What  do  you  see  aloft?'1  repeated  Mr.  Treenail, 
while  the  crew,  greatly  puzzled,  continued  to  follow  my 
eyes,  as  they  thought,  and  to  stare  up  into  the  rigging. 

"Why,  sir,  I  have  thereby  got  a  stiff  neck — that's 
all,  sir." 

"  Go  and  turn  in  at  once,  my  good  boy  —  make  haste, 
now;  tell  our  steward  to  give  you  a  glass  of  hot  grog,  and 
mind  your  hand  that  you  don't  get  sick." 

I  did  as  was  desired,  swallowed  the  grog,  and  turned 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  TORCH  67 

in ;  but  I  could  not  have  been  in  bed  above  an  hour,  when 
the  drum  beat  to  quarters,  and  I  had  once  more  to  bundle 
out  on  the  cold  wet  deck,  where  I  found  all  excitement. 
At  the  time  I  speak  of,  we  had  been  beaten  by  the  Amer- 
icans in  several  actions  of  single  ships,  and  our  discipline 
improved  in  proportion  as  we  came  to  learn,  by  sad 
experience,  that  the  enemy  was  not  to  be  undervalued.  I 
found  that  there  was  a  ship  in  sight,  right  ahead  of  us  — - 
apparently  carrying  all  sail,  i  A  group  of  officers  were  on 
the  forecastle  with  night-glasses,  the  whole  crew  being 
stationed  in  dark  clusters  round  the  guns  at  quarters. 
Several  of  the  American  skippers  were  forward  amongst 
us,  and  they  were  of  opinion  that  the  chase  was  a  man-of- 
war,  although  our  own  people  seemed  to  doubt  this.  One 
of  the  skippers  insisted  that  she  was  the  Hornet,  from 
the  unusual  shortness  of  her  lower  masts,  and  the  im- 
mense squareness  of  her  yards.  But  the  puzzle  was,  if  it 
were  the  Hornet,  why  she  did  not  shorten  sail.  Still 
this  might  be  accounted  for,  by  her  either  wishing  to  make 
out  what  we  were  before  she  engaged  us,  or  she  might 
be  clearing  for  action.  At  this  moment  a  whole  cloud  of 
studdingsails  were  blown  from  the  yards  as  if  the  booms 
had  been  carrots;  and  to  prove  that  the  chase  was  keep- 
ing a  bright  look-out,  she  immediately  kept  away,  and 
finally  bore  up  dead  before  the  wind,  under  the  impres- 
sion, no  doubt,  that  she  would  draw  ahead  of  us,  from 
her  gear  being  entire,  before  we  could  rig  out  our  light 
sails  again. 

And  so  she  did  for  a  time,  but  at  length  we  got  within 
gunshot.  The  American  masters  were  now  ordered  be- 
low, the  hatches  were  clapped  on,  and  the  word  passed 
to  see  all  clear.  Our  shot  was  by  this  time  flying  over  and 
over  her,  and  it  was  evident  she  was  not  a  man-of-war. 
We  peppered  away  —  she  could  not  even  be  a  privateer; 
we  were  close  under  her  lee  quarter,  and  yet  she  had  never 


68  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

fired  a  shot ;  and  her  large  swaggering  Yankee  ensign  was 
now  run  up  to  the  peak,  only  to  be  hauled  down  the  next 
moment.  Hurrah  I  a  large  cotton-ship  from  Charlestown 
to  Bordeaux — prize  to  H.M.S.  Torch! 

She  was  taken  possession  of,  and  proved  to  be  the 
Natches,  of  four  hundred  tons  burden,  fully  loaded  with 
cotton. 

By  the  time  we  got  the  crew  on  board,  and  the  second- 
lieutenant,  with  a  prize  crew  of  fifteen  men,  had  taken 
charge,  the  weather  began  to  lour  again,  nevertheless 
we  took  the  prize  in  tow,  and  continued  on  our  voyage  for 
the  next  three  days,  without  anything  particular  happen- 
ing. It  was  the  middle  watch,  and  I  was  sound  asleep, 
when  I  was  startled  by  a  violent  jerking  of  my  hammock, 
and  a  cry  "  that  the  brig  was  amongst  the  breakers."  I 
ran  on  deck  in  my  shirt,  where  I  found  all  hands,  and  a 
scene  of  confusion  such  as  I  never  had  witnessed  before. 
The  gale  had  increased,  yet  the  prize  had  not  been  cast 
off,  and  the  consequence  was,  that  by  some  mismanage- 
ment or  carelessness,  the  swag  of  the  large  ship  had  sud- 
denly hove  the  brig  in  the  wind,  and  taken  the  sails  aback. 
We  accordingly  fetched  stern  way,  and  ran  foul  of  the 
prize,  and  there  we  were,  in  a  heavy  sea,  with  our  stern 
grinding  against  the  cotton-ship's  high  quarter. 

The  mainboom,  by  the  first  rasp  that  took  place  after 
I  came  on  deck,  was  broken  short  off,  and  nearly  twelve 
feet  of  it  hove  right  in  over  the  taffrail ;  the  vessels  then 
closed,  and  the  next  rub  ground  off  the  ship's  mizzen  chan- 
nel as  clean  as  if  it  had  been  sawed  away.  Officers  shout- 
ing, men  swearing,  rigging  cracking,  the  vessels  crashing 
and  thumping  together,  I  thought  we  were  gone,  when  the 
first  lieutenant  seized  his  trumpet —  "Silence,  men;  hold 
your  tongues,  you  cowards,  and  mind  the  word  of  com- 
mand!" 

The   effect  was  magical.  —  "  Brace   round  the   fore- 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  TORCH  69 

yard  —  round  with  it ;  set  the  jib  —  that's  it  —  fore-top- 
mast staysail  —  haul  —  never  mind  if  the  gale  takes  it 
out  of  the  bolt-rope  "  —  a  thundering  flap,  and  away  it 
flew  in  truth  down  to  leeward,  like  a  puff  of  white  smoke. 

—  "  Never  mind,  men,  the  jib  stands.     Belay  all  that  — 
down  with  the  helm,  now  —  don't  you  see  she  has  stern 
way  yet?    Zounds!    we  shall  be  smashed  to  atoms  if  you 
don't  mind  your  hands,  you  lubbers  —  main-topsail  sheets 
let  fly  —  there  she  pays  off,  and  has  headway  once  more 

—  that's  it :   right  your  helm,    now  —  never  mind   his 
spanker-boom,   the  fore-stay  will  stand  it:  there  —  up 
with  helm,  sir  —  we  have  cleared  him  —  hurrah !"     And 
a  near  thing  it  was  too,  but  we  soon  had  everything  snug; 
and  although  the  gale  continued  without  any  intermission 
for  ten  days,  at  length  we  ran  in  and  anchored  with  our 
prize   in   Five-Fathom   Hole,    off    the    entrance   to     St. 
George's  Harbour. 

It  was  lucky  for  us  that  we  got  to  anchor  at  the  time 
we  did,  for  that  same  afternoon  one  of  the  most  tremen- 
dous gales  of  wind  from  the  westward  came  on  that  I 
ever  saw.  Fortunately  it  was  steady  and  did  not  veer 
about,  and  having  good  ground-tackle  down,  we  rode  it 
out  well  enough.  The  effect  was  very  uncommon;  the 
wind  was  howling  over  our  mast-heads,  and  amongst  the 
cedar  bushes  on  the  cliffs  above,  while  on  deck  it  was 
nearly  calm,  and  there  was  very  little  swell,  being  a  weath- 
er shore;  but  half  a  mile  out  at  sea  all  was  white  foam, 
and  the  tumbling  waves  seemed  to  meet  from  north  and 
south,  leaving  a  space  of  smooth  water  under  the  lee  of 
the  island,  shaped  like  the  tail  of  a  comet,  tapering  away, 
and  gradually  roughening  and  becoming  more  stormy, 
until  the  roaring  billows  once  more  owned  allegiance  to 
the  genius  of  the  storm. 

There  we  rode,  with  three  anchors  ahead,  in  safety 
through  the  night;  and  next  day,  availing  of  a  temporary 


70  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

lull,  we  ran  up  and  anchored  off  the  Tanks.  Three  days 
after  this,  the  American  frigate  President  was  brought  in 
by  the  Endymion  and  the  rest  of  the  squadron. 

I  went  on  board,  in  common  with  every  officer  in  the 
fleet,  and  certainly  I  never  saw  a  more  superb  vessel;  her 
scantling  was  that  of  a  seventy-four,  and  she  appeared  to 
have  been  fitted  with  great  care.  I  got  a  week's  leave  at 
this  time,  and,  as  I  had  letters  to  several  families,  I  con- 
trived to  spend  my  time  pleasantly  enough. 

Bermuda,  as  all  the  world  knows,  is  a  cluster  of  islands 
in  the  middle  of  the  Atlantic.  There  are  Lord  knows  how 
many  of  them,  but  the  beauty  of  the  little  straits  and 
creeks  which  divide  them  no  man  can  describe  who  has 
not  seen  them.  The  town  of  St.  George's,  for  instance, 
looks  as  if  the  houses  were  cut  out  of  chalk;  and  one  eve- 
ning the  family  where  I  was  on  a  visit  proceeded  to  the 
main  island,  Hamilton,  to  attend  a  ball  there.  We  had 
to  cross  three  ferries,  although  the  distance  was  not  above 
nine  miles,  if  so  far.  The  'Mudian  women  are  unques- 
tionably beautiful  —  so  thought  Thomas  Moore,  a  tol- 
erable judge,  before  me.  By  the  by,  touching  this 
'Mudian  ball,  it  was  a  very  gay  affair  —  the  women  pleas- 
ant and  beautiful;  but  all  the  men,  when  they  speak,  or 
are  spoken  to,  shut  one  eye  and  spit;  —  a  lucid  and  suc- 
cinct description  of  a  community. 

The  second  day  of  my  sojourn  was  fine  —  the  first  fine 
day  since  our  arrival  —  and  with  several  young  ladies 
of  the  family,  I  was  prowling  through  the  cedar  wood 
above  St.  George's,  when  a  dark  good-looking  man 
passed  us;  he  was  dressed  in  tight  worsted  net  pantaloons 
and  Hessian  boots,  and  wore  a  blue  frockcoat  and  two 
large  epaulets,  with  rich  French  bullion,  and  a  round  hat. 
On  passing,  he  touched  his  hat  with  much  grace,  and  in 
the  evening  I  met  him  in  society.  It  was  Commodore 
Decatur.  He  was  very  much  a  Frenchman  in  manner,  or, 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  TORCH  71 

I  should  rather  say,  in  look,  for  although  very  well  bred, 
he,  for  one  ingredient,  by  no  means  possessed  a  French- 
man's volubility;  still,  he  was  an  exceedingly  agreeable 
and  very  handsome  man. 

The  following  day  we  spent  in  a  pleasure  cruise 
amongst  the  three  hundred  and  sixty-five  islands,  many 
of  them  not  above  an  acre  in  extent  —  fancy  an  island  of 
an  acre  in  extent !  —  with  a  solitary  house,  a  small  garden, 
a  red-skinned  family,  a  piggery,  and  all  around  clear  deep 
pellucid  water.  None  of  the  islands,  or  islets,  rise  to  any 
great  height,  but  they  all  shoot  precipitously  out  of  the 
water,  as  if  the  whole  group  had  originally  been  one  huge 
platform  of  rock,  with  numberless  grooves  subsequently 
chiselled  out  in  it  by  art. 

We  had  to  wind  our  way  amongst  these  manifold  small 
channels  for  two  hours,  before  we  reached  the  gentle- 
man's house  where  we  had  been  invited  to  dine;  at  length, 
on  turning  a  corner,  with  both  lateen  sails  drawing  beau- 
tifully, we  ran  bump  on  a  shoal;  there  was  no  danger,  and 
knowing  that  the  'Mudians  were  capital  sailors,  I  sat 

still.    Not  so  Captain  K ,  a  round  plump  little  homo, 

—  "  Shove  her  off,  my  boys,  shove  her  off."  She  would 
not  move,  and  thereupon  he,  in  a  fever  of  gallantry, 
jumped  overboard  up  to  the  waist  in  full  fig;  and  one  of 
the  men  following  his  example,  we  were  soon  afloat.  The 
ladies  applauded,  and  the  captain  sat  in  his  wet  breeks 
for  the  rest  of  the  voyage,  in  all  the  consciousness  of 
being  considered  a  hero.  Ducks  and  onions  are  the  grand 
staple  of  Bermuda,  but  there  was  a  fearful  dearth  of  both 
at  the  time  I  speak  of  —  a  knot  of  young  West  India 
merchants,  who,  with  heavy  purses  and  large  credits  on 
England,  had  at  this  time  domiciled  themselves  in  St. 
George's,  to  batten  on  the  spoils  of  poor  Jonathan,  hav- 
ing monopolised  all  the  good  things  of  the  place.  I  hap- 
pened to  be  acquainted  with  one  of  them,  and  thereby 


72  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

had  less  reason  to  complain;  but  many  a  poor  fellow, 
sent  ashore  on  duty,  had  to  put  up  with  but  Lenten  fare 
at  the  taverns.  At  length,  having  refitted,  we  sailed  in 
company  with  the  Rayo  frigate,  with  a  convoy  of  three 
transports,  freighted  with  a  regiment  for  New  Orleans, 
and  several  merchantmen  for  the  West  Indies. 

"The  still  vexed  Bermoothes" — I  arrived  at  them 
in  a  gale  of  wind,  and  I  sailed  from  them  in  a  gale  of 
wind.  What  the  climate  may  be  in  the  summer  I  don't 
know;  but  during  the  time  I  was  there  it  was  one  storm 
after  another. 

We  sailed  in  the  evening  with  the  moon  at  full,  and 
the  wind  at  west-north-west.  So  soon  as  we  got  from 
under  the  lee  of  the  land  the  breeze  struck  us,  and 
it  came  on  to  blow  like  thunder,  so  that  we  were  all  soon 
reduced  to  our  storm  staysails ;  and  there  we  were,  trans- 
ports, merchantmen,  and  men-of-war,  rising  on  the  moun- 
tainous billows  one  moment,  and  the  next  losing  sight  of 
everything  but  the  water  and  sky  in  the  deep  trough  of 
the  sea,  while  the  seething  foam  -was  blown  over  us  in 
showers  from  the  curling  manes  of  the  roaring  waves. 
But  overhead,  all  this  while,  it  was  as  clear  as  a  lovely 
winter  moon  could  make  it,  and  the  stars  shone  brightly 
in  the  deep  blue  sky;  there  was  not  even  a  thin  fleecy  shred 
of  cloud  racking  across  the  moon's  disc.  Oh,  the  glories 
of  a  northwester ! 

But  the  devil  seize  such  glory !  Glory,  indeed !  with  a 
fleet  of  transports,  and  a  regiment  of  soldiers  on  board ! 
Glory !  why,  I  daresay  five  hundred  rank  and  file,  at  the 
fewest,  were  all  cascading  at  one  and  the  same  moment, — 
a  thousand  poor  fellows  turned  outside  in,  like  so  many 
pairs  of  old  stockings.  Any  glory  in  that?  But  to 
proceed. 

Next  morning  the  gale  still  continued,  and  when  the 
day  broke  there  was  the  frigate  standing  across  our  bows, 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  TORCH  73 

rolling  and  pitching,  as  she  tore  her  way  through  the 
boiling  sea,  under  a  close-reefed  main-topsail  and  reefed 
foresail,  with  top-gallant-yards  and  royal  masts,  and 
everything  that  could  be  struck  with  safety  in  war-time, 
down  on  deck.  There  she  lay,  with  her  clear  black  bends, 
and  bright  white  streak,  and  long  tier  of  cannon  on  the 
maindeck,  and  the  carronades  on  the  quarterdeck  and 
forecastle  grinning  through  the  ports  in  the  black  bul- 
warks, while  the  white  hammocks,  carefully  covered  by 
the  hammock-cloths,  crowned  the  defences  of  the  gallant 
frigate  fore  and  aft,  as  she  delved  through  the  green 
surge  —  one  minute  rolling  and  rising  on  the  curling 
white  crest  of  a  mountainous  sea,  amidst  a  hissing  snow- 
storm of  spray,  with  her  bright  copper  glancing  from 
stem  to  stern,  and  her  scanty  white  canvas  swelling  aloft, 
and  twenty  feet  of  her  keel  forward  occasionally  hove 
into  the  air  and  clean  out  of  the  water,  as  if  she  had  been 
a  sea-bird  rushing  to  take  wing —  and  the  next,  sinking 
entirely  out  of  sight  —  hull,  masts,  and  rigging  —  behind 
an  intervening  sea,  that  rose  in  hoarse  thunder  between 
us,  threatening  to  overwhelm  both  us  and  her.  As  for 
the  transports,  the  largest  of  the  three  had  lost  her  fore- 
topmast,  and  had  bore  up  under  her  foresail ;  another  was 
also  scudding  under  a  close-reefed  fore-topsail;  but  the 
third  or  head-quarter  ship  was  still  lying  to  windward, 
under  her  storm  staysails.  None  of  the  merchant  vessels 
were  to  be  seen,  having  been  compelled  to  bear  up  in  the 
night,  and  to  run  before  it  under  bare  poles. 

At  length,  as  the  sun  rose,  we  got  before  the  wind, 
and  it  soon  moderated  so  far  that  we  could  carry  reefed 
topsails  and  £oresail;  and  away  we  all  bowled,  with  a 
clear,  deep,  cold,  blue  sky,  and  a  bright  sun  overhead, 
and  a  stormy  leaden-coloured  ocean  with  whitish  green^ 
crested  billows,  below.  The  sea  continued  to  go  down, 
and  the  wind  to  slacken,  until  the  afternoon,  when  the 


74  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

commodore  made  the  signal  for  the  Torch  to  send  a 
boat's  crew,  the  instant  it  could  be  done  with  safety,  on 
board  the  dismasted  ship  to  assist  in  repairing  damages 
and  in  getting  up  a  jury-foretopmast. 

The  damaged  ship  was  at  this  time  on  our  weather- 
quarter;  we  accordingly  handed  the  fore-topsail,  and  pres- 
ently she  was  alongside.  We  hailed  her,  that  we  intended 
to  send  a  boat  on  board,  and  desired  her  to  heave-to,  as 
we  did,  and  presently  she  rounded  to  under  our  lee.  One 
of  the  quarter-boats  was  manned,  with  three  of  the  car- 
penter's crew,  and  six  good  men  over  and  above  her  com- 
plement; but  it  was  no  easy  matter  to  get  on  board  of  her, 
let  me  tell  you,  after  she  had  been  lowered,  carefully 
watching  the  rolls,  with  four  hands  in.  The  moment  she 
touched  the  water,  the  tackles  were  cleverly  unhooked, 
and  the  rest  of  us  tumbled  on  board,  shin  leather  grow- 
ing scarce,  when  we  shoved  off.  With  great  difficulty, 
and  not  without  wet  jackets,  we,  the  supernumeraries,  got 
on  board,  and  the  boat  returned  to  the  Torch.  The  eve- 
ning when  we  landed  in  the  lobster-box,  as  Jack  loves  to 
designate  a  transport,  was  too  far  advanced  for  us  to  do 
anything  towards  refitting  that  night;  and  the  confusion 
and  uproar  and  numberless  abominations  of  the  crowded 
craft,  were  irksome  to  a  greater  degree  than  I  expected, 
after  having  been  accustomed  to  the  strict  and  orderly 
discipline  of  a  man-of-war.  The  following  forenoon  the 
Torch  was  ordered  by  signal  to  chase  in  the  south-east 
quarter,  and,  hauling  out  from  the  fleet,  she  was  soon  out 
of  sight. 


THE  MERCHANTMAN  AND  THE  PIRATE 
From  "Hard  Cash,"  BY  CHARLES  READE 

NORTH  Latitude  23^,  Longitude  East  113;  the 
time  March  of  this  same  year;  the  wind  southerly; 
the  port  Whampoa  in  the  Canton  River.  Ships  at 
anchor  reared  their  tall  masts  here  and  there;  and  the 
broad  stream  was  enlivened  and  colored  by  junks  and 
boats  of  all  sizes  and  vivid  hues,  propelled  on  the  screw 
principle  by  a  great  scull  at  the  stern,  with  projecting 
handles  for  the  crew  to  work;  and  at  times  a  gorgeous 
mandarin  boat,  with  two  great  glaring  eyes  set  in  the  bows, 
came  flying,  rowed  with  forty  paddles  by  an  armed  crew, 
whose  shields  hung  on  the  gunwale  and  flashed  fire  in  the 
sunbeams;  the  mandarin,  in  conical  and  buttoned  hat,  sit- 
ting on  the  top  of  his  cabin  calmly  smoking  Paradise,  alias 
opium,  while  his  gong  boomed  and  his  boat  flew  fourteen 
miles  an  hour,  and  all  things  scuttled  out  of  his  celestial 
way.  And  there,  looking  majestically  down  on  all  these 
water  ants,  the  huge  Agra,  cynosure  of  so  many  loving 
eyes  and  loving  hearts  in  England,  lay  at  her  moorings ; 
homeward  bound. 

Her  tea  not  being  yet  on  board,  the  ship's  hull  floated 
high  as  a  castle,  and  to  the  subtle,  intellectual,  doll-faced, 
bolus-eyed  people,  that  sculled  to  and  fro,  busy  as  bees, 
though  looking  forked  mushrooms,  she  sounded  like  a  vast 
musical  shell :  for  a  lusty  harmony  of  many  mellow  voices 
vibrated  in  her  great  cavities,  and  made  the  air  ring  cheer- 
ily around  her.  The  vocalists  were  the  Cyclops,  to  judge 
by  the  tremendous  thumps  that  kept  clean  time  to  their 
sturdy  tune.  Yet  it  was  but  human  labor,  so  heavy  and 

75 


76 


GREAT  SEA  STORIES 


so  knowing,  that  it  had  called  in  music  to  help.  It  was 
the  third  mate  and  his  gang  completing  his  floor  to  receive 
the  coming  tea  chests.  Yesterday  he  had  stowed  his  dun- 
nage, many  hundred  bundles  of  light  flexible  canes  from 
Sumatra  and  Malacca;  on  these  he  had  laid  tons  of  rough 
saltpetre,  in  200  Ib.  gunny-bags :  and  was  now  mashing  it 
to  music,  bags  and  all.  His  gang  of  fifteen,  naked  to  the 
waist,  stood  in  line,  with  huge  wooden  beetles,  called  com- 
manders, and  lifted  them  high  and  brought  them  down 
on  the  nitre  in  cadence  with  true  nautical  power  and  unison, 
singing  as  follows,  with  ponderous  bump  on  the  last  note 
in  each  bar: — 


3 


Here     goes     one,        Owe,     jiie  theVe    one; 


One     now  it    is  gone,  There's  an  roth-  cr  yet   to 


±L 


J, 


come,     and    a,- way  we'll  go     to  Flanders,  AN- 


mongst  our  wood-en  commanders,  where  we'll  get  wine  In 

/^ 


pjen  -  ty,        Bum,  bran  -  dy,  and     Ge  •  na  -  vy. 
Here-goea  two.     Owe  me  there  two,  £c, 

And  so  up  to  fifteen,  when  the  stave  was  concluded  with 
a  shrill  "Spell,  oh!"  and  the  gang  relieved  streaming  with 


MERCHANTMAN  AND  THE  PIRATE     77 

perspiration.  When  the  saltpetre  was  well  mashed,  they 
rolled  ton  waterbutts  on  it,  till  the  floor  was  like  a  billiard 
table.  A  fleet  of  chop  boats  then  began  to  arrive,  so  many 
per  day,  with  the  tea  chests.  Mr.  Grey  proceeded  to  lay 
the  first  tier  on  his  saltpetre  floor,  and  then  built  the 
chests,  tier  upon  tier,  beginning  at  the  sides,  and  leaving 
in  the  middle  a  lane  somewhat  narrower  than  a  tea  chest. 
Then  he  applied  a  screw  jack  to  the  chests  on  both  sides, 
and  so  enlarged  his  central  aperture,  and  forced  the  re- 
maining tea  chests  in;  and  behold  the  enormous  cargo 
packed  as  tight  as  ever  shopkeeper  packed  a  box — 19,806 
chests,  60  half  chests,  50  quarter  chests. 

While  Mr.  Grey  was  contemplating  his  work  with  sin- 
gular satisfaction,  a  small  boat  from  Canton  came  along- 
side, and  Mr.  Tickell,  midshipman,  ran  up  the  side, 
skipped  on  the  quarter-deck,  saluted  it  first,  and  then  the 
first  mate;  and  gave  him  a  line  from  the  captain,  desiring 
him  to  take  the  ship  down  to  Second  Bar — for  her  water — 
at  the  turn  of  the  tide. 

Two  hours  after  receipt  of  this  order  the  ship  swung 
to  the  ebb.  Instantly  Mr.  Sharpe  unmoored,  and  the 
Agra  began  her  famous  voyage,  with  her  head  at  right 
angles  to  her  course;  for  the  wind  being  foul,  all  Sharpe 
could  do  was  to  set  his  topsails,  driver,  and  jib,  and  keep 
her  in  the  tide  way,  and  clear  of  the  numerous  craft,  by 
backing  or  filling  as  the  case  required;  which  he  did  with 
considerable  dexterity,  making  the  sails  steer  the  helm  for 
the  nonce:  he  crossed  the  Bar  at  sunset,  and  brought  to 
with  the  best  bower  anchor  in  five  fathoms  and  a  half. 
Here  they  began  to  take  in  their  water,  and  on  the  fifth 

lay  the  six-oared  gig  was  ordered  up  to  Canton  for  the 
captain.  The  next  afternoon  he  passed  the  ship  in  her, 
going  down  the  river,  to  Lin  Tin,  to  board  the  Chinese 

idmiral  for  his  chop,  or  permission  to  leave  China.  All 
night  the  Agra  showed  three  lights  at  her  mizzen  peak  for 


78  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

him,  and  kept  a  sharp  lookout.  But  he  did  not  come :  he 
was  having  a  very  serious  talk  with  the  Chinese  admiral; 
at  daybreak,  however,  the  gig  was  reported  in  sight: 
Sharpe  told  one  of  the  midshipmen  to  call  the  boatswain 
and  man  the  side.  Soon  the  gig  ran  alongside;  two  of 
the  ship's  boys  jumped  like  monkeys  over  the  bulwarks, 
lighting,  one  on  the  main  channels,  the  other  on  the  mid- 
ship port,  and  put  the  side  ropes  assiduously  in  the  captain's 
hands;  he  bestowed  a  slight  paternal  smile  on  them,  the 
first  the  imps  had  ever  received  from  an  officer,  and  went 
lightly  up  the  sides.  The  moment  his  foot  touched  the 
deck,  the  boatswain  gave  a  frightful  shrill  whistle;  the 
men  at  the  sides  uncovered,  the  captain  saluted  the  quar- 
ter-deck, and  all  the  officers  saluted  him,  which  he  returned, 
and  stepping  for  a  moment  to  the  weather  side  of  his  deck, 
gave  the  loud  command,  "  All  hands  heave  anchor."  He 
then  directed  Mr.  Sharpe  to  get  what  sail  he  could  on  the 
ship,  the  wind  being  now  westerly,  and  dived  into  his 
cabin. 

The  boatswain  piped  three  shrill  pipes,  and  "  All  hands 
up  anchor  "  was  thrice  repeateoV  forward,  followed  by 
private  admonitions,  "  Rouse  and  bitt!  "  Show  a  leg!  " 
etc.,  and  up  tumbled  the  crew  with  "  homeward  bound  " 
written  on  their  tanned  faces. 

(Pipe.)     "Up  all  hammocks!" 

In  ten  minutes  the  ninety  and  odd  hammocks  were  all 
stowed  neatly  in  the  netting,  and  covered  with  a  snowy 
hammock  cloth;  and  the  hands  were  active,  unbitting  the 
cable,  shipping  the  capstan  bars,  etc. 

"All  ready  below,  sir,"  cried  a  voice. 

"Man  the  bars,"  returned  Mr.  Sharpe  from  the 
quarter-deck.  "Play  up,  fifer.  Heave  away!" 

Out  broke  the  merry  fife  with  a  rhythmical  tune,  and 
tramp,  tramp,  tramp  went  a  hundred  and  twenty  feet 
round  and  round,  and,  with  brawny  chests  pressed  tight 


MERCHANTMAN  AND  THE  PIRATE     79 

against  the  capstan  bars,  sixty  fine  fellows  walked  the  ship 
up  to  her  anchor,  drowning  the  fife  at  intervals  with  their 
sturdy  song,  as  pat  to  their  feet  as  an  echo : 

Heave  with  a  will  ye  jolly  boys, 

Heave  around: 
We're  off  from  Chainee,  jolly  boys, 

Homeward  bound. 

"  Short  stay  apeak,  sir,"  roars  the  boatswain  from  for- 
ward. 

"  Unship  the  bars.  Way  aloft.  Loose  sails.  Let 
fall!" 

The  ship  being  now  over  her  anchor,  and  the  top- 
sails set,  the  capstan  bars  were  shipped  again,  the  men 
all  heaved  with  a  will,  the  messenger  grinned,  the  anchor 
was  torn  out  of  China  with  a  mighty  heave,  and  then  run 
up  with  a  luff  tackle  and  secured;  the  ship's  head  cast  to 
port: 

"  Up  with  a  jib !  man  the  topsail  halyards !  all  hands 
make  sail!  "  Round  she  came  slow  and  majestically;  the 
sails  filled,  and  the  good  ship  bore  away  for  England. 

She  made  the  Bogue  forts  in  three  or  four  tacks,  and 
there  she  had  to  come  to  again  for  another  chop,  China 
being  a  place  as  hard  to  get  into  as  Heaven,  and  to  get 
out  of  as  —  Chancery.  At  three  P.  M.  she  was  at  Macao, 
and  hove  to  four  miles  from  the  land,  to  take  in  her  passen- 
gers. 

A  gun  was  fired  from  the  forecastle.  No  boats  came 
off.  Sharpe  began  to  fret:  for  the  wind,  though  light, 
had  now  got  to  the  N.W.,  and  they  were  wasting  it.  After 
a  while  the  captain  came  on  deck,  and  ordered  all  the  car- 
ronades  to  be  scaled.  The  eight  heavy  reports  bellowed 
the  great  ship's  impatience  across  the  water,  and  out 
pulled  two  boats  with  the  passengers.  While  they  were 
coming,  Dodd  sent  and  ordered  the  gunner  to  load  the 
carronades  with  shot,  and  secure  and  apron  them. .  .  . 


80  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

The  Agra  had  already  shown  great  sailing  qualities :  the 
log  was  hove  at  sundown  and  gave  eleven  knots;  so  that 
with  a  good  breeze  abaft  few  fore-and-aft-rigged  pirates 
could  overhaul  her.  And  this  wind  carried  her  swiftly 
past  one  nest  of  them  at  all  events ;  the  Ladrone  Isles.  At 
nine  P.  M.  all  the  lights  were  ordered  out.  Mrs.  Beresford 
had  brought  a  novel  on  board,  and  refused  to  comply;  the 
master-at-arms  insisted;  she  threatened  him  with  the  ven- 
geance of  the  Company,  the  premier,  and  the  nobility  and 
gentry  of  the  British  realm.  The  master-at-arms,  finding 
he  had  no  chance  in  argument,  doused  the  glim  —  pitiable 
resource  of  a  weak  disputant  —  then  basely  fled  the  rhet- 
orical consequences. 

The  northerly  breeze  died  out,  and  light  variable  winds 
baffled  the  ship.  It  was  the  6th  April  ere  she  passed  the 
Macclesfield  Bank  in  latitude  16.  And  now  they  sailed 
for  many  days  out  of  sight  of  land;  Dodd's  chest  expand- 
ed :  his  main  anxiety  at  this  part  of  the  voyage  lay  in  the 
state  cabin;  of  all  the  perils  of  the  sea  none  shakes  a  sailor 
like  fire.  He  set  a  watch  day  and  night  on  that  spoiled 
child. 

On  the  ist  of  May  they  passed  the  great  Nantuna,  and 
got  among  the  Bornese  and  Malay  Islands :  at  which  the 
captain's  glass  began  to  sweep  the  horizon  again:  and 
night  and  day  at  the  dizzy  foretop-gallant-masthead  he 
perched  an  eye. 

They  crossed  the  line  in  longitude  107,  with  a  slight 
breeze,  but  soon  fell  into  the  Dolddrums.  A  dead  calm, 
and  nothing  to  do  but  kill  time.  .  .  . 

After  lying  a  week  like  a  dead  log  on  the  calm  but 
heaving  waters  came  a  few  light  puffs  in  the  upper  air  and 
inflated  the  topsails  only:  the  ship  crawled  southward,  the 
crew  whistling  for  wind. 

At  last,  one  afternoon,  it  began  to  rain,  and  after  the 


MERCHANTMAN  AND  THE   PIRATE     81 

rain  came  a  gale  from  the  eastward.  The  watchful  skip- 
per saw  it  purple  the  water  to  windward,  and  ordered  the 
topsails  to  be  reefed  and  the  lee  ports  closed.  This  last 
order  seemed  an  excess  of  precaution;  but  Dodd  was  not 
yet  thoroughly  acquainted  with  his  ship's  qualities:  and 
the  hard  cash  round  his  neck  made  him  cautious.  The  lee 
ports  were  closed,  all  but  one,  and  that  was  lowered.  Mr. 
Grey  was  working  a  problem  in  his  cabin,  and  wanted  a 
little  light  and  a  little  air,  so  he  just  dropped  his  port; 
but,  not  to  deviate  from  the  spirit  of  his  captain's  instruc- 
tions, he  fastened  a  tackle  to  it ;  that  he  might  have  mechan- 
ical force  to  close  it  with  should  the  ship  lie  over. 

Down  came  the  gale  with  a  whoo,  and  made  all  crack. 
The  ship  lay  over  pretty  much,  and  the  sea  poured  in  at 
Mr.  Grey's  port.  He  applied  his  purchase  to  close  it. 
But  though  his  tackle  gave  him  the  force  of  a  dozen  hands, 
he  might  as  well  have  tried  to  move  a  mountain:  on  the 
contrary,  the  tremendous  sea  rushed  in  and  burst  the  port 
wide  open.  Grey,  after  a  vain  struggle  with  its  might, 
shrieked  for  help;  down  tumbled  the  nearest  hands,  and 
hauled  on  the  tackle  in  vain.  Destruction  was  rushing  on 
the  ship,  and  on  them  first.  But  meantime  the  captain, 
with  a  shrewd  guess  at  the  general  nature  of  the  danger 
he  could  not  see,  had  roared  out,  "  Slack  the  main  sheet!  " 
The  ship  righted,  and  the  port  came  flying  to,  and  terror- 
stricken  men  breathed  hard,  up  to  their  waists  in  water  and 
floating  boxes.  Grey  barred  the  unlucky  port,  and  went 
aft,  drenched  in  body,  and  wrecked  in  mind,  to  report  his 
own  fault.  He  found  the  captain  looking  grim  as  death. 
He  told  him,  almost  crying,  what  he  had  done,  and  how 
he  had  miscalculated  the  power  of  the  water. 

Dodd  looked  and  saw  his  distress.  "  Let  it  be  a  lesson 
sir,"  said  he,  sternly.  "How  many  ships  have  been  lost  by 
this  in  fair  weather,  and  not  a  man  saved  to  tell  how  the 
craft  was  fooled  away?" 


82  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

"Captain,  bid  me  fling  myself  over  the  side,  and  I'll 
do  it." 

"Humph!  I'm  afraid  I  can't  afford  to  lose  a  good 
officer  for  a  fault  he  —  will  —  never  —  repeat." 

It  blew  hard  all  night  and  till  twelve  the  next  day.  The 
Agra  showed  her  weak  point :  she  rolled  abominably.  A 
dirty  night  came  on.  At  eight  bells  Mr.  Grey  touched  by 
Dodd's  clemency,  and  brimful  of  zeal,  reported  a  light  in 
Mrs.  Beresford's  cabin.  It  had  been  put  out  as  usual  by 
the  master-at-arms ;  but  the  refractory  one  had  relighted  it. 

"  Go  and  take  it  away,"  said  Dodd. 

Soon  screams  were  heard  from  the  cabin.  "  Oh!  mercy! 
mercy!  I  will  not  be  drowned  in  the  dark." 

Dodd,  who  had  kept  clear  of  her  so  long,  went  down 
and  tried  to  reassure  her. 

"  Oh,  the  tempest!  the  tempest!"  she  cried.    "  AND  TO 

BE  DROWNED  IN  THE  DARK  !  " 

"Tempest?  It  is  blowing  half  a  gale  of  wind;  that 
is  all." 

u  Half  a  gale!  Ah,  that  is  the  way  you  always  talk  to 
us  ladies.  Oh,  pray  give  me  my  light,  and  send  me  a 
clergyman !  " 

Dodd  took  pity,  and  let  her  have  her  light,  with  a  mid- 
shipman to  watch  it.  He  even  made  her  a  hypocritical 
promise  that,  should  there  be  one  grain  of  danger,  he 
would  lie  to;  but  said  he  must  not  make  a  foul  wind 
of  a  fair  one  for  a  few  lurches.  The  Agra  broke  plenty 
of  glass  and  crockery  though  with  her  fair  wind  and  her 
lee  lurches. 

Wind  down  at  noon  next  day,  and  a  dead  calm. 

At  two  P.M.  the  weather  cleared;  the  sun  came  out  high 
in  heaven's  centre ;  and  a  balmy  breeze  from  the  west. 

At  six  twenty-five,  the  grand  orb  set  calm  and  red,  and 
the  sea  was  gorgeous  with  miles  and  miles  of  great  ruby 
dimples :  it  was  the  first  glowing  smile  of  southern  latitude. 


MERCHANTMAN  AND  THE  PIRATE     83 

The  night  stole  on  so  soft,  so  clear,  so  balmy,  all  were 
loth  to  close  their  eyes  on  it :  the  passengers  lingered  long 
on  deck,  watching  the  Great  Bear  dip,  and  the  Southern 
Cross  rise,  and  overhead  a  whole  heaven  of  glorious  stars 
most  of  us  have  never  seen,  and  never  shall  see  in  this 
world.  No  belching  smoke  obscured,  no  plunging  paddles 
deafened;  all  was  musical;  the  soft  air  sighing  among  the 
sails;  the  phosphorescent  water  bubbling  from  the  ship's 
bows;  the  murmurs  from  little  knots  of  men  on  deck  sub- 
dued by  the  great  calm:  home  seemed  near,  all  danger 
far ;  Peace  ruled  the  sea,  the  sky,  the  heart :  the  ship,  mak- 
ing a  track  of  white  fire  on  the  deep,  glided  gently  yet 
swiftly  homeward,  urged  by  snowy  sails  piled  up  like  ala- 
baster towers  against  a  violet  sky,  out  of  which  looked  a 
thousand  eyes  of  holy  tranquil  fire.  So  melted  the  sweet 
night  away. 

Now  carmine  streaks  tinged  the  eastern  sky  at  the 
water's  edge:  and  that  water  blushed;  now  the  streaks 
turned  orange,  and  the  waves  below  them  sparkled. 
Thence  splashes  of  living  gold  flew  and  settled  on  the 
ship's  white  sails,  the  deck,  and  the  faces;  and  with  no  more 
prologue,  being  so  near  the  line,  up  came  majestically  a 
huge,  fiery,  golden  sun,  and  set  the  sea  flaming  liquid 
topaz. 

Instantly  the  lookout  at  the  foretop-gallant-masthead 
hailed  the  deck  below. 

"STRANGE  SAIL!    RIGHT  AHEAD!" 

The  strange  sail  was  reported  to  Captain  Dodd,  then 
dressing  in  his  cabin.     He  came  soon  after  on  deck  and 
hailed  the  lookout:  "  Which  way  is  she  standing?  " 
"  Can't  say,  sir.    Can't  see  her  move  any." 
Dodd  ordered  the  boatswain  to  pipe  to  breakfast;  and 
taking  his  deck  glass  went  lightly  up  to  the  foretop-gallant- 


84  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

mast-crosstrees.  Thence,  through  the  light  haze  of  a 
glorious  morning,  he  espied  a  long  low  schooner,  lateen- 
rigged,  lying  close  under  Point  Leat,  a  small  island  about 
nine  miles  distant  on  the  weather  bow;  and  nearly  in  the 
Agra's  course  then  approaching  the  Straits  of  Caspar,  4 
Latitude  S. 

"  She  is  hove  to,"  said  Dodd,  very  gravely. 

At  eight  o'clock,  the  stranger  lay  about  two  miles  to 
windward;  and  still  hove  to. 

By  this  time  all  eyes  were  turned  upon  her,  and  half  a 
dozen  glasses.  Everybody,  except  the  captain,  delivered 
an  opinion.  She  was  a  Greek  lying  to  for  water :  she  was 
a  Malay  coming  north  with  canes,  and  short  of  hands: 
she  was  a  pirate  watching  the  Straits. 

The  captain  leaned  silent  and  sombre  with  his  arms  on 
the  bulwarks,  and  watched  the  suspected  craft. 

Mr.  Fullalove  joined  the  group,  and  levelled  a  powerful 
glass,  of  his  own  construction.  His  inspection  was  long 
and  minute,  and,  while  the  glass  was  at  his  eye,  Sharpe 
asked  him  half  in  a  whisper,  could  he  make  out  anything? 

;<  Wai,"  said  he,  "  the  varmint  looks  considerably 
snaky."  Then,  without  moving  his  glass,  he  let  drop  a 
word  at  a  time,  as  if  the  facts  were  trickling  into  his  tele- 
scope at  the  lens,  and  out  at  the  sight.  "  One  —  two  — 
four  —  seven,  false  ports." 

There  was  a  momentary  murmur  among  the  officers  all 
round.  But  British  sailors  are  undemonstrative:  Colonel 
Kenealy,  strolling  the  deck  with  a  cigar,  saw  they  were 
watching  another  ship  with  maritime  curiosity,  and  making 
comments;  but  he  discerned  no  particular  emotion  nor 
anxiety  in  what  they  said,  nor  in  the  grave  low  tones  they 
said  it  in.  Perhaps  a  brother  seaman  would  though. 

The  next  observation  that  trickled  out  of  Fullalove's 
tube  was  this:  "  I  judge  there  are  too  few  hands  on  deck, 


MERCHANTMAN  AND  THE   PIRATE     85 

and    too    many  —  white  —  eyeballs  —  glittering    at    the 
portholes." 

"  Confound  it!  "  muttered  Bayliss,  uneasily;  "  how  can 
you  see  that?  " 

Fullalove  replied  only  by  quietly  handing  his  glass  to 
Dodd.  The  captain,  thus  appealed  to,  glued  his  eye  to 
the  tube. 

;t  Well,  sir;  see  the  false  ports,  and  the  white  eye- 
brows? "  asked  Sharpe,  ironically. 

"  I  see  this  is  the  best  glass  I  ever  looked  through,"  said 
Dodd  doggedly,  without  interrupting 'his  inspection. 

"I  think  he  is  a  Malay  pirate,"  said  Mr.  Grey. 

Sharpe  took  him  up  very  quickly,  and,  indeed,  angrily : 
"  Nonsense !  And  if  he  is,  he  won't  venture  on  a  craft  of 
this  size." 

"  Says  the  whale  to  the  swordfish,"  suggested  Fullalove, 
with  a  little  guttural  laugh. 

The  captain,  with  the  American  glass  at  his  eye,  turned 
half  round  to  the  man  at  the  wheel :  "  Starboard !" 

"  Starboard  it  is." 

"Steer  South  South  East." 

"  Ay,  ay,  sir."  And  the  ship's  course  was  thus  altered 
two  points. 

This  order  lowered  Dodd  fifty  per  cent  in  Mr.  Sharpens 
estimation.     He  held  his  tongue  as  long  as  he  could:  but 
at  last  his  surprise  and  dissatisfaction  burst  out  of  him, 
;<  Won't  that  bring  him  out  on  us?" 
4  Very  likely,  sir,"  replied  Dodd. 

"Begging  your  pardon,  captain,  would  it  not  be  wiser 
to  keep  our  course,  and  show  the  blackguard  we  don't  fear 
him?" 

"When  we  do?  Sharpe,  he  has  made  up  his  mind  an 
hour  ago  whether  to  lie  still,  or  bite;  my  changing  my 
course  two  points  won't  change  his  mind;  but  it  may  make 


86  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

him  declare  it;  and  7  must  know  what  he  does  intend,  be- 
fore I  run  the  ship  into  the  narrows  ahead." 

"  Oh,  I  see,"  said  Sharpe,  half  convinced. 

The  alteration  in  the  Agra? s  course  produced  no  move- 
ment on  the  part  of  the  mysterious  schooner.  She  lay  to 
under  the  land  still,  and  with  only  a  few  hands  on  deck, 
while  the  Agra  edged  away  from  her  and  entered  the 
straits  between  Long  Island  and  Point  Leat,  leaving  the 
schooner  about  two  miles  and  a  half  distant  to  the  N.W. 

Ah !    The  stranger's  deck  swarms  black  with  men. 

His  sham  ports  fell  as  if  by  magic,  his  guns  grinned 
through  the  gaps  like  black  teeth;  his  huge  foresail  rose 
and  filled,  and  out  he  came  in  chase. 

The  breeze  was  a  kiss  from  Heaven,  the  sky  a  vaulted 
sapphire,  the  sea  a  million  dimples  of  liquid,  lucid, 
gold.  .... 

The  way  the  pirate  dropped  the  mask,  showed  his  black 
teeth,  and  bore  up  in  chase,  was  terrible:  so  dilates  and 
bounds  the  sudden  tiger  on  his  unwary  prey.  There  were 
stout  hearts  among  the  officers  of  the  peaceful  Agra;  but 
danger  in  a  new  form  shakes  the  brave ;  and  this  was  their 
first  pirate:  their  dismay  broke  out  in  ejaculations  not  loud 
but  deep.  .  .  . 

"  Sharpe,"  said  Dodd,  in  a  tone  that  conveyed  no  sus- 
picion of  the  newcomer,  "set  the  royals,  and  flying  jib. — 
Port!" 

"  Port  it  is,"  cried  the  man  at  the  helm. 

"Steer  due  South!"  And,  with  these  words  in  his 
mouth,  Dodd  dived  to  the  gun  deck. 

By  this  time  elastic  Sharpe  had  recovered  the  first  shock ; 
and  the  order  to  crowd  sail  on  the  ship  galled  his  pride 
and  his  manhood;  he  muttered,  indignantly,  "  The  white 


MERCHANTMAN  AND  THE   PIRATE     87 

feather!"  This  eased  his  mind,  and  he  obeyed  orders 
briskly  as  ever.  While  he  and  his  hands  were  setting  every 
rag  the  ship  could  carry  on  that  tack,  the  other  officers, 
having  unluckily  no  orders  to  execute,  stood  gloomy  and 
helpless,  with  their  eyes  glued,  by  a  sort  of  sombre  fasci- 
nation, on  that  coming  fate.  .  .  . 

Realize  the  situation,  and  the  strange  incongruity  be- 
tween the  senses  and  the  mind  in  these  poor  fellows !  The 
day  had  ripened  its  beauty ;  beneath  a  purple  heaven  shone, 
sparkled,  and  laughed  a  blue  sea,  in  whose  waves  the  trop- 
ical sun  seemed  to  have  fused  his  beams;  and  beneath  that 
fair,  sinless,  peaceful  sky,  wafted  by  a  balmy  breeze  over 
those  smiling,  transparent,  golden  waves,  a  bloodthirsty 
Pirate  bore  down  on  them  with  a  crew  of  human  tigers; 
and  a  lady  babble  babble  babble  babble  babble  babble 
babbled  in  their  quivering  ears. 

But  now  the  captain  came  bustling  on  deck,  eyed  the 
loftier  sails,  saw  they  were  drawing  well,  appointed  four 
midshipmen  in  a  staff  to  convey  his  orders;  gave  Bayliss 
charge  of  the  carronades,  Grey  of  the  cutlasses,  and  direct- 
ed Mr.  Tickell  to  break  the  bad  news  gently  to  Mrs. 
Beresford,  and  to  take  her  below  to  the  orlop  deck;  order- 
ed the  purser  to  serve  out  beef,  biscuit,  and  grog  to  all 
hands,  saying,  "Men  can't  work  on  an  empty  stomach: 
and  fighting  is  hard  work;"  then  beckoned  the  officers  to 
come  round  him.  "Gentlemen,"  said  he,  confidentially, 
"  in  crowding  sail  on  this  ship  I  had  no  hope  of  escaping 
that  fellow  on  this  tack,  but  I  was,  and  am,  most  anxious 
to  gain  the  open  sea,  where  I  can  square  my  yards  and  run 
for  it,  if  I  see  a  chance.  At  present  I  shall  carry  on  till 
he  comes  up  within  range:  and  then,  to  keep  the  Com- 
pany's canvas  from  being  shot  to  rags,  I  shall  shorten  sail; 
and  to  save  ship  and  cargo  and  all  our  lives,  I  shall  fight 
while  a  plank  of  her  swims.  Better  to  be  killed  in  hot 
blood  than  walk  the  plank  in  cold." 


88  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

The  officers  cheered  faintly:  the  captain's  dogged  res- 
olution stirred  up  theirs.  .  .  . 

"  Shorten  sail  to  the  taupsles  and  jib,  get  the  colors 
ready  on  the  halyards,  and  then  send  the  men  aft.  .  ;.,  . " 

Sail  was  no  sooner  shortened,  and  the  crew  ranged,  than 
the  captain  came  briskly  on  deck,  saluted,  jumped  on  a 
carronade,  and  stood  erect.  He  was  not  the  man  to  show 
the  crew  his  forebodings. 

(Pipe.)     "Silence  fore  and  aft." 

"  My  men,  the  schooner  coming  up  on  our  weather 
quarter  is  a  Portuguese  pirate.  His  character  is  known; 
he  scuttles  all  the  ships  he  boards,  dishonors  the  women, 
and  murders  the  crew.  We  cracked  on  to  get  out  of  the 
narrows,  and  now  we  have  shortened  sail  to  fight  this 
blackguard,  and  teach  him  not  to  molest  a  British  ship. 
I  promise,  in  the  Company's  name,  twenty  pounds  prize 
money  to  every  man  before  the  mast  if  we  beat  him  off  or 
out  manoeuvre  him;  thirty  if  we  sink  him;  and  forty  if  we 
tow  him  astern  into  a  friendly  port.  Eight  guns  are  clear 
below,  three  on  the  weather  side,  five  on  the  lee;  for,  if 
he  knows  his  business,  he  will  come  up  on  the  lee  quarter: 
if  he  doesn't,  that  is  no  fault  of  yours  nor  mine.  The  mus- 
kets are  all  loaded,  the  cutlasses  ground  like  razors  —  " 

"Hurrah!" 

"  We  have  got  women  to  defend  —  " 

"Hurrah!" 

"A  good  ship  under  our  feet,  the  God  of  justice  over- 
head, British  hearts  in  our  bosoms,  and  British  colors  fly- 
ing—  run  'em  up!  —  over  our  heads."  (The  ship's 
colors  flew  up  to  the  fore,  and  the  Union  Jack  to  the  miz- 
zen  peak.)  "  Now  lads,  I  mean  to  fight  this  ship  while  a 
plank  of  her  (stamping  on  the  deck)  swims  beneath  my 
foot  and  —  WHAT  DO  YOU  SAY?  " 


MERCHANTMAN  AND  THE  PIRATE     89 

The  reply  was  a  fierce  "  hurrah !  "  from  a  hundred 
throats,  so  loud,  so  deep,  so  full  of  volume,  it  made  the 
ship  vibrate,  and  rang  in  the  creeping-on  pirate's  ears. 
Fierce,  but  cunning,  he  saw  mischief  in  those  shortened 
sails,  and  that  Union  Jack,  the  terror  of  his  tribe,  rising 
to  a  British  cheer;  he  lowered  his  mainsail,  and  crawled 
up  on  the  weather  quarter.  Arrived  within  a  cable's 
length,  he  double  reefed  his  foresail  to  reduce  his  rate  of 
sailing  nearly  to  that  of  the  ship ;  and  the  next  moment  a 
tongue  of  flame,  and  then  a  gash  of  smoke,  issued  from  his 
lee  bow,  and  the  ball  flew  screaming  like  a  seagull  over 
the  Agra* s  mizzen  top.  He  then  put  his  helm  up,  and 
fired  his  other  bow-chaser,  and  sent  the  shot  hissing  and 
skipping  on  the  water  past  the  ship.  This  prologue  made 
the  novices  wince.  Bayliss  wanted  to  reply  with  a  carron- 
ade;  but  Dodd  forbade  him  sternly,  saying,  "  If  we  keep 
him  aloof  we  are  done  for." 

The  pirate  drew  nearer,  and  fired  both  guns  in  suc- 
cession, hulled  the  Agra  amidships,  and  sent  an  eighteen 
pound  ball  through  her  foresail.  Most  of  the  faces  were 
pale  on  the  quarter-deck ;  it  was  very  trying  to  be  shot  at, 
and  hit,  and  make  no  return.  The  next  double  discharge 
sent  one  shot  smash  through  the  stern  cabin  window,  and 
splintered  the  bulwark  with  another,  wounding  a  seaman 
slightly. 

"  LIE  DOWN  FORWARD  !  "  shouted  Dodd,  through  his 
trumpet.  "  Bayliss,  give  him  a  shot." 

The  carronade  was  fired  with  a  tremendous  report,  but 
no  visible  effect.  The  pirate  crept  nearer,  steering  in  and 
out  like  a  snake  to  avoid  the  carronades,  and  firing  those 
two  heavy  guns  alternately  into  the  devoted  ship.  He 
hulled  the  Agra  now  nearly  every  shot. 

The  two  available  carronades  replied  noisily,  and 
jumped  as  usual ;  they  sent  one  thirty-two  pound  shot  clean 


90  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

through  the  schooner's  deck  and  side ;  but  that  was  literally 
all  they  did  worth  speaking  of. 

"  Curse  them!  "  cried  Dodd;  "  load  them  with  grape! 
They  are  not  to  be  trusted  with  ball.  And  all  my  eigh- 
teen-pounders  dumb !  The  coward  won't  come  alongside 
and  give  them  a  chance." 

At  the  next  discharge  the  pirate  chipped  the  mizzen 
mast,  and  knocked  a  sailor  into  dead  pieces  on  the  fore- 
castle. Dodd  put  his  'helm  down  ere  the  smoke  cleared, 
and  got  three  carronades  to  bear,  heavily  laden  with 
grape.  Several  pirates  fell,  dead  or  wounded,  on  the 
crowded  deck,  and  some  holes  appeared  in  the  foresail; 
this  one  interchange  was  quite  in  favor  of  the  ship. 

But  the  lesson  made  the  enemy  more  cautious;  he  crept 
nearer,  but  steered  so  adroitly,  now  right  astern,  now  on 
the  quarter,  that  the  ship  could  seldom  bring  more  than 
one  carronade  to  bear,  while  he  raked  her  fore  and  aft 
with  grape  and  ball. 

In  this  alarming  situation,  Dodd  kept  as  many  of  the 
men  below  as  possible ;  but,  for  all  he  could  do  four  were 
killed  and  seven  wounded. 

Fullalove's  word  came  too  true:  it  was  the  swordfish 
and  the  whale:  it  was  a  fight  of  hammer  and  anvil;  one 
hit,  the  other  made  a  noise.  Cautious  and  cruel,  the  pirate 
hung  on  the  poor  hulking  creature's  quarters  and  raked  her 
at  point  blank  distance.  He  made  her  pass  a  bitter  time. 
And  her  captain !  To  see  the  splintering  hull,  the  part- 
ing shrouds,  the  shivered  gear,  and  hear  the  shrieks  and 
groans  of  his  wounded ;  and  'he  unable  to  reply  in  kind ! 
The  sweat  of  agony  poured  down  his  face.  Oh,  if  he 
could  but  reach  the  open  sea,  and  square  his  yards,  and 
make  a  long  chase  of  it;  perhaps  fall  in  with  aid.  Winc- 
ing under  each  heavy  blow,  he  crept  doggedly,  patiently 
on,  towards  that  one  visible  hope. 

At  last,  when  the  s'hip  was  cloven  with  shot,  and  pep- 


MERCHANTMAN  AND  THE  PIRATE     91 

pered  with  grape,  the  channel  opened:  in  five  minutes 
more  he  could  put  her  dead  before  the  wind. 

No.  The  pirate,  on  whose  side  luck  had  been  from  the 
first,  got  half  a  broadside  to  bear  at  long  musket  shot, 
killed  a  midshipman  by  Dodd's  side,  cut  away  two  of  the 
Agra's  mizzen  shrouds,  wounded  the  gaff:  and  cut  the 
jib  stay;  down  fell  the  powerful  sail  into  the  water,  and 
dragged  across  the  ship's  forefoot,  stopping  her  way  to 
the  open  sea  she  panted  for,  the  mates  groaned;  the 
crew  cheered  stoutly,  as  British  tars  do  in  any  great  dis- 
aster; the  pirates  yelled  with  ferocious  triumph,  like  the 
devils  they  looked. 

But  most  human  events,  even  calamities,  have  two  sides. 
The  Agra  being  brought  almost  to  a  standstill,  the  pirate 
forged  ahead  against  his  will,  and  the  combat  took  a  new 
and  terrible  form.  The  elephant  gun  popped,  and  the 
rifle  cracked,  in  the  Agra? s  mizzen  top,  and  the  man  at 
the  pirate's  helm  jumped  into  the  air  and  fell  dead :  both 
Theorists  claimed  him.  Then  the  three  carronades  pep- 
pered him  hotly;  and  he  hurled  an  iron  shower  back  with 
fatal  effect.  Then  at  last  the  long  1 8-pounders  on  the  gun- 
deck  got  a  word  in.  The  old  Niler  was  not  the  man  to 
miss  a  vessel  alongside  in  a  quiet  sea;  he  sent  two  round 
shot  clean  through  him;  the  third  splintered  his  bulwark, 
and  swept  across  his  deck. 

"  His  masts!  fire  at  his  masts!"  roared  Dodd  to 
Monk,  through  his  trumpet;  he  then  got  the  jib  clear,  and 
made  what  sail  he  could  without  taking  all  the  hands  from 
the  guns. 

This  kept  the  vessels  nearly  alongside  a  few  minutes, 
and  the  fight  was  hot  as  fire.  The  pirate  now  for  the  first 
time  hoisted  his  flag.  It  was  black  as  ink.  His  crew  yelled 
as  it  rose :  the  Britons,  instead  of  quailing,  cheered  with 
fierce  derision:  the  pirate's  wild  crew  of  yellow  Malays, 
black  chinless  Papuans,  and  bronzed  Portuguese,  served 


92  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

their  side  guns,  12-pounders,  well  and  with  ferocious  cries; 
the  white  Britons,  drunk  with  battle  now,  naked  to  the 
waist,  grimed  with  powder,  and  spotted  like  leopards  with 
blood,  their  own  and  their  mates',  replied  with  loud  un- 
daunted cheers,  and  deadly  hail  of  grape  from  the  quarter- 
deck; while  the  master  gunner  and  his  mates  load- 
ing with  a  rapidity  the  mixed  races  opposed  could  not 
rival,  hulled  the  schooner  well  between  wind  and  water, 
and  then  fired  chain  shot  at  her  masts,  as  ordered,  and  be- 
gan to  play  the  mischief  with  her  shrouds  and  rigging. 
Meantime,  Fullalove  and  Kenealy,  aided  by  Vespasian, 
who  loaded,  were  quietly  butchering  the  pirate  crew  two 
a  minute,  and  hoped  to  settle  the  question  they  were  fight- 
ing for;  smooth-bore  v.  rifle:  but  unluckily  neither  fired 
once  without  killing;  so  "there  was  nothing  proven." 

The  pirate,  bold  as  he  was,  got  sick  of  fair  fighting  first ; 
he  hoisted  his  mainsail  and  drew  rapidly  ahead,  with  a 
slight  bearing  to  windward,  and  dismounted  a  carronade 
and  stove  in  the  ship's  quarter-boat,  by  way  of  a  parting 
kick. 

The  men  hurled  a  contemptuous  cheer  after  him;  they 
thought  they  had  beaten  him  off.  But  Dodd  knew  better. 
He  was  but  retiring  a  little  way  to  make  a  more  deadly 
attack  than  ever:  he  would  soon  wear,  and  cross  the 
Agra* s  defenceless  bows,  to  rake  her  fore  and  aft  at  pistol- 
shot  distance;  or  grapple,  and  board  the  enfeebled  ship 
two  hundred  strong. 

Dodd  flew  to  the  helm,  and  with  his  own  hands  put  it 
hard  aweather,  to  give  the  deck  guns  one  more  chance, 
the  last,  of  sinking  or  disabling  the  Destroyer.  As  the  ship 
obeyed,  and  a  deck  gun  bellowed  below  him,  he  saw  a 
vessel  running  out  from  Long  Island,  and  coming  swiftly 
up  on  his  lee  quarter. 

It  was  a  schooner.    Was  she  coming  to  his  aid? 

Horror !    A  black  flag  floated  from  her  foremast  head. 


MERCHANTMAN  AND  THE  PIRATE     93 

While  DodcTs  eyes  were  staring  almost  out  of  his  head 
at  this  death-blow  to  hope,  Monk  fired  again ;  and  just  then 
a  pale  face  came  close  to  Dodd's,  and  a  solemn  voice  whis- 
pered in  his  ear:  "  Our  ammunition  is  nearly  done !  " 

Dodd  seized  Sharpe's  hand  convulsively,  and  pointed 
to  the  pirate's  consort  coming  up  to  finish  them ;  and  said, 
with  the  calm  of  a  brave  man's  despair,  "  Cutlesses !  and 
lie  hard!" 

At  that  moment  the  master  gunner  fired  his  last  gun. 
[t  sent  a  chain  shot  on  board  the  retiring  pirate,  took  off  a 
'ortuguese  head  and  spun  it  clean  into  the  sea  ever  so  far 
to  windward,  and  cut  the  schooner's  foremast  so  nearly 
trough  that  it  trembled  and  nodded,  and  presently 
tapped  with  a  loud  crack,  and  came  down  like  a  broken 

je,  with  the  yard  and  sail ;  the  latter  overlapping  the  deck 
ind  burying  itself,  black  flag  and  all,  in  the  sea ;  and  there, 
in  one  moment,  lay  the  Destroyer  buffeting  and  wriggling 
—  like  a  heron  on  the  water  with  its  long  wing  broken  — > 
an  utter  cripple. 

The  victorious  crew  raised  a  stunning  cheer. 

"Silence!"  roared  Dodd,  with  his  trumpet.  "All 
hands  make  sail !" 

He  set  his  courses,  bent  a  new  jib,  and  stood  out  to 
windward  close  hauled,  in  hopes  to  make  a  good  offing, 
and  then  put  his  ship  dead  before  the  wind,  which  was  now 
rising  to  a  stiff  breeze.  In  doing  this  he  crossed  the  crip- 
pled pirate's  bows,  within  eighty  yards;  and  sore  was  the 
temptation  to  rake  him;  but  his  ammunition  being  short, 
and  his  danger  being  imminent  from  the  other  pirate,  he 
had  the  self-command  to  resist  the  great  temptation. 

He  hailed  the  mizzen  top :  "  Can  you  two  hinder  them 
from  firing  that  gun?  " 

"  I  rather  think  we  can,"  said  Fullalove,  "  eh,  colonel?  " 
and  tapped  his  long  rifle. 

The  ship  no  sooner  crossed  the  schooner's  bows  than 


94  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

a  Malay  ran  forward  with  a  linstock.  Pop  went  the 
colonel's  ready  carbine,  and  the  Malay  fell  over  dead, 
and  the  linstock  flew  out  of  his  hand.  A  tall  Portuguese, 
with  a  movement  of  rage,  snatched  it  up,  and  darted  to 
the  gun;  the  Yankee  rifle  cracked,  but  a  moment  too  late. 
Bang!  went  the  pirate's  bow-chaser,  and  crashed  into  the 
Agra* s  side,  and  passed  nearly  through  her. 

"Ye  missed  him!  Ye  missed  him!"  cried  the  rival 
theorist,  joyfully.  He  was  mistaken:  the  smoke  cleared, 
and  there  was  the  pirate  captain  leaning  wounded  against 
the  mainmast  with  a  Yankee  bullet  in  his  shoulder,  and  his 
crew  uttering  yells  of  dismay  and  vengeance.  They 
jumped,  and  raged,  and  brandished  their  knives  and  made 
horrid  gesticulations  of  revenge ;  and  the  white  eyeballs  of 
the  Malays  and  Papuans  glittered  fiendishly;  and  the 
wounded  captain  raised  his  sound  arm  and  had  a  signal 
hoisted  to  his  consort,  and  she  bore  up  in  chase,  and  jam- 
ming her  fore  lateen  flat  as  a  board,  lay  far  nearer  the 
wind  than  the  Agra  could,  and  sailed  three  feet  to  her  two 
besides.  On  this  superiority  being  made  clear,  the  situa- 
tion of  the  merchant  vessel,  though  not  so  utterly  desper- 
ate as  before  Monk  fired  his  lucky  shot,  became  pitiable 
enough.  If  she  ran  before  the  wind,  the  fresh  pirate 
would  cut  her  off :  if  she  lay  to  windward,  she  might  post- 
pone the  inevitable  and  fatal  collision  with  a  foe  as  strong 
as  that  she  had  only  escaped  by  a  rare  piece  of  luck;  but 
this  would  give  the  crippled  pirate  time  to  refit  and  unite 
to  destroy  her.  Add  to  this  the  failing  ammunition,  and 
the  thinned  crew! 

Dodd  cast  his  eyes  all  around  the  horizon  for  help. 

The  sea  was  blank. 

The  bright  sun  was  hidden  now;  drops  of  rain  fell,  and 
the  wind  was  beginning  to  sing;  and  the  sea  to  rise  a  little. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  he,  "  let  us  kneel  down  and  pray  for 
wisdom,  in  this  sore  strait." 


MERCHANTMAN  AND  THE   PIRATE     95 

He  and  his  officers  kneeled  on  the  quarter-deck.  When 
they  rose,  Dodd  stood  rapt  about  a  minute;  his  great 
thoughtful  eye  saw  no  more  the  enemy,  the  sea,  nor  any- 
thing external ;  it  was  turned  inward.  His  officers  looked 
at  him  in  silence. 

Sharpe,"  said  he,  at  last,  "  there  must  be  a  way  out 
>f  them  with  such  a  breeze  as  this  is  now;  if  we  could  but 
it." 

"  Ay,  */,"  groaned  Sharpe. 

Dodd  mused  again. 

"  About  ship !  "  said  he,  softly,  like  an  absent  man. 

"Ay,  ay,  sir!" 

"  Steer  due  north !  "  said  he,  still  like  one  whose  mind 
was  elsewhere. 

While  the  ship  was  coming  about,  he  gave  minute  orders 

the  mates  and  the  gunner,  to  ensure  co-operation  in  the 
lelicate  and  dangerous  manoeuvres  that  were  sure  to  be  on 
land. 

The  wind  was  W.N.W. :  he  was  standing  north:  one 
>irate  lay  on  his  lee  beam  stopping  a  leak  between  wind 
ind  water,  and  hacking  the  deck  clear  of  his  broken  masts 
ind  yards.  The  other  fresh,  and  thirsting  for  the  easy 
>rey,  came  up  to  weather  on  him  and  hang  on  his  quarter, 
>irate  fashion. 

When  they  were  distant  about  a  cable's  length,  the  fresh 
)irate,  to  meet  the  ship's  change  of  tactics,  changed  his 
>wn,  luffed  up,  and  gave  the  ship  a  broadside,  well  aimed 
mt  not  destructive,  the  guns  being  loaded  with  ball. 

Dodd,  instead  of  replying  immediately,  put  his  helm 
lard  up  and  ran  under  the  pirate's  stern,  while  he  was 
jammed  up  in  the  wind,  and  with  his  five  eighteen-pound- 
ers  raked  him  fore  and  aft,  then  paying  off,  gave  him  three 
carronades  crammed  with  grape  and  canister;  the  almost 
simultaneous  discharge  of  eight  guns  made  the  ship  trem- 
ble, and  enveloped  her  in  thick  smoke;  loud  shrieks  and 


96  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

groans  were  heard  from  the  schooner;  the  smoke  cleared; 
the  pirate's  mainsail  hung  on  deck,  his  jib-boom  was  cut 
off  like  a  carrot  and  the  sail  struggling;  his  foresail  looked 
lace,  lanes  of  dead  and  wounded  lay  still  or  writhing  on 
his  deck  and  his  lee  scuppers  ran  blood  into  the  sea.  Dodd 
squared  his  yards  and  bore  away. 

The  ship  rushed  down  the  wind,  leaving  the  schooner 
staggered  and  all  abroad.  But  not  for  long;  the  pirate 
wore  and  fired  his  bow  chasers  at  the  now  flying  Agra, 
split  one  of  the  carronades  in  two,  and  killed  a  Lascar,  and 
made  a  hole  in  the  foresail;  this  done,  he  hoisted  his  main- 
sail again  in  a  trice,  sent  his  wounded  below,  flung  his  dead 
overboard,  to  the  horror  of  their  foes,  and  came  after  the 
flying  ship,  yawning  and  firing  his  bow  chasers.  The  ship 
was  silent.  She  had  no  shot  to  throw  away.  Not  only  did 
she  take  these  blows  like  a  coward,  but  all  signs  of  life 
disappeared  on  her,  except  two  men  at  the  wheel,  and  the 
captain  on  the  main  gangway. 

Dodd  had  ordered  the  crew  out  of  the  rigging,  armed 
them  with  cutlasses,  and  laid  them  flat  on  the  forecastle. 
He  also  compelled  Kenealy  and  Fullalove  to  come  down 
out  of  harm's  way,  no  wiser  on  the  smooth-bore  question 
than  they  went  up. 

The  great  patient  ship  ran  environed  by  her  foes;  one 
destroyer  right  in  her  course,  another  in  her  wake,  follow- 
ing her  with  yells  of  vengeance,  and  pounding  away  at  her 
— -  but  no  reply. 

Suddenly  the  yells  of  the  pirates  on  both  sides  ceased, 
and  there  was  a  moment  of  dead  silence  on  the  sea. 

Yet  nothing  fresh  had  happened. 

Yes,  this  had  happened:  the  pirates  to  windward,  and 
the  pirates  to  leeward,  of  the  Agra,  had  found  out,  at  one 
and  the  same  moment,  that  the  merchant  captain  they  had 
lashed,  and  bullied,  and  tortured,  was  a  patient  but  tre- 
mendous man.  It  was  not  only  to  rake  the  fresh  schooner 


! 


MERCHANTMAN  AND  THE   PIRATE     97 


e  had  put  his  ship  before  the  wind,  but  also  by  a  double, 
aring,  master-stroke  to  hurl  his  monster  ship  bodily  on 
the  other.  Without  a  foresail  she  could  never  get  out  of 
his  way.  Her  crew  had  stopped  the  leak,  and  cut  away 
and  unshipped  the  broken  foremast,  and  were  stepping 
a  new  one,  when  they  saw  the  huge  ship  bearing  down  in 
full  sail.  Nothing  easier  than  to  slip  out  of  her  way  could 
they  get  the  foresail  to  draw;  but  the  time  was  short,  the 
deadly  intention  manifest,  the  coming  destruction  swift. 
After  that  solemn  silence  came  a  storm  of  cries  and  curses, 
as  their  seamen  went  to  work  to  fit  the  yard  and  raise  the 
sail;  while  their  fighting  men  seized  their  matchlocks  and 
trained  the  guns.  They  were  well  comm'anded  by  an 
heroic  able  villian.  Astern  the  consort  thundered ;  but  the 
Agra's  response  was  a  dead  silence  more  awful  than 
broadsides. 

For  then  was  seen  with  what  majesty  the  enduring 
Anglo-Saxon  fights. 

One  of  the  indomitable  race  on  the  gangway,  one  at 
the  foremast,  two  at  the  wheel,  conned  and  steered  the 
great  ship  down  on  a  hundred  matchlocks,  and  a  grinning 
broadside,  just  as  they  would  have  conned  and  steered  her 
into  a  British  'harbor. 

"  Starboard !  "  said  Dodd,  in  a  deep  calm  voice,  with 
a  motion  of  his  hand. 

"  Starboard  it  is." 

The  pirate  wriggled  ahead  a  little.  The  man  forward 
made  a  silent  signal  to  Dodd. 

"  Port!  "  said  Dodd,  quietly. 

"  Port  it  is." 

But  at  this  critical  moment  the  pirate  astern  sent  a 
mischievous  shot,  and  knocked  one  of  the  men  to  atoms  at 
the  helm. 

Dodd  waved  his  hand  without  a  word,  and  another  man 
rose  from  the  deck,  and  took  his  place  in  silence,  and  laid 


\ 


98  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

his  unshaking  hand  on  the  wheel  stained  with  that  man's 
warm  blood  whose  place  he  took. 

The  high  ship  was  now  scarce  sixty  yards  distant:  she 
seemed  to  know,  she  reared  her  lofty  figurehead  with 
great  awful  shoots  into  the  air. 

But  now  the  panting  pirates  got  their  new  foresail  hoist- 
ed with  a  joyful  shout:  it  drew,  the  schooner  gathered  way, 
and  their  furious  consort  close  on  the  Agra's  heels  just 
then  scourged  her  deck  with  grape. 

"  Port!  "  said  Dodd,  calmly. 

"  Port  it  is." 

The  giant  prow  darted  at  the  escaping  pirate.  That 
acre  of  coming  canvas  took  the  wind  out  of  the  swift 
schooner's  foresail;  it  flapped:  oh,  then  she  was  doomed! 
.  .  .  CRASH  !  the  Indiaman's  cut-water  in  thick  smoke 
beat  in  the  schooner's  broadside :  down  went  her  masts  to 
leeward  like  fishing-rods  whipping  the  water;  there  was  a 
horrible  shrieking  yell;  wild  forms  leaped  off  on  the  Agra, 
and  were  hacked  to  pieces  almost  ere  they  reached  the 
deck  —  a  surge,  a  chasm  in  the  ear,  filled  with  an  instant 
rush  of  engulfing  waves,  a  long,  awful,  grating,  grinding 
noise,  never  to  be  forgotten  in  this  world,  all  along  under 
the  ship's  keel  —  and  the  fearful  majestic  monster  passed 
on  over  the  blank  she  had  made,  with  a  pale  crew  standing 
silent  and  awestruck  on  her  deck;  a  cluster  of  wild  heads 
and  staring  eyeballs  bobbing  like  corks  in  her  foaming 
wake,  sole  relic  of  the  blotted-out  Destroyer;  and  a 
wounded  man  staggering  on  the  gangway,  with  hands  up- 
lifted and  staring  eyes. 


NARRATIVE    OF    THE    MUTINY    OF    THE 
BOUNTY 

From  "Chamber's  Miscellany,"  ANONYMOUS 

A  BOUT  the  year  1786,  the  merchants  and  planters 
A\  interested  in  the  West  India  Islands  became  anx- 
ious to  introduce  an  exceedingly  valuable  plant, 
the  bread-fruit  tree,  into  these  possessions,  and  as  this 
could  best  be  done  by  a  government  expedition,  a  request 
was  preferred  to  the  crown  accordingly.  The  ministry  at 
the  time  being  favorable  to  the  proposed  undertaking,  a 
vessel,  named  the  Bounty,  was  selected  to  execute  the 
desired  object.  To  the  command  of  this  ship  Captain  W. 
Bligh  was  appointed,  Aug.  16,  1787.  The  burden  of  the 
Bounty  was  nearly  two  hundred  and  fifteen  tons.  The 
establishment  of  men  and  officers  for  the  ship  was  as  fol- 
lows:— 1  lieutenant  to  command,  1  master,  1  boatswain, 
1  gunner,  1  carpenter,  1  surgeon,  2  master's  mates,  2 
midshipmen,  2  quarter-masters,  1  quarter-master's  mate, 
1  boatswain's  mate,  1  gunner's  mate,  1  carpenter's  mate, 
1  carpenter's  crew,  1  sailmaker,  1  armourer,  1  corporal,  1 
clerk  and  steward,  23  able  seamen  —  total,  44.  The  ad- 
dition of  two  men  appointed  to  take  care  of  the  plants, 
made  the  whole  ship's  crew  amount  to  46.  The  ship  was 
stored  and  victualled  for  eighteen  months. 

Thus  prepared,  the  Bounty  set  sail  on  the  23d  of 
December,  and  what  ensued  will  be  best  told  in  the  lan- 
guage of  Captain  Blight. 

Monday,  21th  April  1789. — The  wind  being  north- 
erly in  the  evening,  we  steered  to  the  westward,  to  pass 
to  the  south  of  Tofoa.  I  gave  directions  for  this  course 

99 


100     , ,  ;  ;  ,;  ,  :GREAT  SEA:  STORIES 

to  be  continued  during  the  night.  The  master  had  the 
first  watch,  the  gunner  the  middle  watch,  and  Mr.  Chris- 
tian the  morning  watch. 

Tuesday,  28th.  —  Just  before  sunrising,  while  I  was 
yet  asleep,  Mr.  Christian,  with  the  master-at-arms,  gun- 
ner's mate,  and  Thomas  Burkitt,  seaman,  came  into  my 
cabin,  and  seizing  me,  tied  my  hands  with  a  cord  behind 
my  back,  threatening  me  with  instant  death  if  I  spoke  or 
made  the  least  noise.  I,  however,  called  as  loud  as  I 
could,  in  hopes  of  assistance ;  but  they  had  already jsecured 
the  officers  who  were  not  of  their  party,  by  placing  senti- 
nels at  their  doors.  There  were  three  men  at  my  cabin 
door,  besides  the  four  within;  Christian  had  only  a  cutlass 
in  his  hand,  the  others  had  muskets  and  bayonets.  I  was 
pulled  out  of  bed,  and  forced  on  deck  in  my  shirt,  suffering 
great  pain  from  the  tightness  with  which  they  had  tied  my 
hands.  I  demanded  the  reason  of  such  violence,  but  re- 
ceived no  other  answer  than  abuse  for  not  holding  my 
tongue.  The  master,  the  gunner,  the  surgeon,  Mr. 
Elphinstone,  master's  mate,  and  Nelson,  were  kept  con- 
fined below,  and  the  fore-hatchway  was  guarded  by  sen- 
tinels. The  boatswain  and  carpenter,  and  also  the  clerk, 
Mr.  Samuel,  were  allowed  to  come  upon  deck.  The  boat- 
swain was  ordered  to  hoist  the  launch  out,  with  a  threat  if 
he  did  not  do  it  instantly  to  take  care  of  himself. 

When  the  boat  was  out,  Mr.  Hayward  and  Mr.  Hallett, 
two  of  the  midshipmen,  and  Mr.  Samuel,  were  ordered 
into  it.  I  demanded  what  their  intention  was  in  giving 
this  order,  and  endeavored  to  persuade  the  people  near 
me  not  to  persist  in  such  acts  of  violence ;  but  it  was  to  no 
effect.  Christian  changed  the  cutlass  which  he  had  in  his 
hand  for  a  bayonet  that  was  brought  to  him,  and  holding 
me  with  a  strong  grip  by  the  cord  that  tied  my  hands,  he 
with  many  oaths  threatened  to  kill  me  immediately  if  I 
would  not  be  quiet;  the  villains  round  me  had  their  pieces 


THE  MUTINY  OF  THE  BOUNTY       101 

cocked  and  bayonets  fixed.  Particular  people  were  called 
on  to  go  into  the  boat,  and  were  hurried  over  the  side, 
whence  I  concluded  that  with  these  people  I  was  to  be  set 
adrift.  I  therefore  made  another  effort  to  bring  about 
a  change,  but  with  no  other  effect  than  to  be  threatened 
with  having  my  brains  blown  out. 

The  boatswain  and  seamen  who  were  to  go  in  the  boat 
were  allowed  to  collect  twine,  canvas,  lines,  sails,  cordage, 
an  eight-and-twenty-gallon  cask  of  water,  and  Mr. 
Samuel  got  a  hundred  and  fifty  pounds  of  bread,  with  a 
small  quantity  of  rum  and  wine,  also  a  quadrant  and  com- 
pass; but  he  was  forbidden,  on  pain  of  death,  to  touch 
either  map,  ephemeris,  book  of  astronomical  observations, 
sextant,  time-keeper,  or  any  of  my  surveys  or  drawings. 

The  officers  were  next  called  upon  deck,  and  forced 
over  the  side  into  the  boat,  while  I  was  kept  apart  from 
every  one  abaft  the  mizzen-mast. 

Isaac  Martin,  one  of  the  guard  over  me,  I  saw  had  an 
inclination  to  assist  me,  and,  as  he  fed  me  with  shaddock 
(my  lips  being  quite  parched),  we  explained  our  wishes 
to  each  other  by  our  looks;  but  this  being  observed,  Martin 
was  removed  from  me.  He  then  attempted  to  leave  the 
ship,  for  which  purpose  he  got  into  the  boat;  but  with 
many  threats  they  obliged  him  to  return.  The  armorer, 
Joseph  Coleman,  and  two  of  the  carpenters,  M'Intosh  and 
Norman,  were  also  kept  contrary  to  their  inclination;  and 
they  begged  of  me,  after  I  was  astern  in  the  boat,  to 
remember  that  they  declared  that  they  had  no  hand  in 
the  transaction.  Michael  Byrne,  I  am  told,  likewise 
wanted  to  leave  the  ship. 

It  appeared  to  me  that  Christian  was  some  time  in  doubt 
whether  he  should  keep  the  carpenter  or  his  mates;  at 
length  he  determined  on  the  latter,  and  the  carpenter  was 
ordered  into  the  boat.  He  was  permitted,  but  not  with- 
out some  opposition,  to  take  his  tool-chest.  The  officers 


102     /t  . . ,:  ,,:G£EAT  SEA  STORIES 

and  men  being  in  the  boat,  they  only  waited  for  me,  of 
which  the  master-at-arms  informed  Christian;  who  then 
said,  "  Come,  Captain  Bligh,  your  officers  and  men  are 
now  in  the  boat,  and  you  must  go  with  them;  if  you 
attempt  to  make  the  least  resistance,  you  will  instantly  be 
put  to  death:  "  and  without  further  ceremony,  with  a  tribe 
of  armed  ruffians  about  me,  I  was  forced  over  the  side, 
where  they  untied  my  hands.  Being  in  the  boat,  we  were 
veered  astern  by  a  rope.  A  few  pieces  of  pork  were 
thrown  to  us,  and  some  clothes,  also  four  cutlasses;  and 
it  was  then  that  the  armorer  and  carpenters  called  out  to 
me  to  remember  that  they  had  no  hand  in  the  transaction. 
After  having  undergone  a  great  deal  of  ridicule,  and  hav- 
ing been  kept  some  time  to  make  sport  for  these  unfeeling 
wretches,  we  were  at  length  cast  adrift  in  the  open  ocean. 

I  had  eighteen  persons  with  me  in  the  boat.  There 
remained  on  board  the  Bounty  twenty-five  hands,  the  most 
able  men  of  the  ship's  company.  Having  little  or  no  wind, 
we  rowed  pretty  fast  towards  Tofoa,  which  bore  north- 
east about  ten  leagues  from  us.  While  the  ship  was  in 
sight,  she  steered  to  the  west-north-west;  but  I  considered 
this  only  as  a  feint;  for  when  we  were  sent  away,  "  Huzza 
for  Otaheite !  "  was  frequently  heard  among  the 
mutineers. 

It  will  very  naturally  be  asked,  What  could  be  the  reason 
for  such  a  revolt?  In  answer  to  which,  I  can  only  con- 
jecture that  the  mutineers  had  flattered  themselves  with 
the  hopes  of  a  more  happy  life  among  the  Otaheitans  than 
they  could  possibly  enjoy  in  England;  and  this,  joined  to 
some  female  connections,  most  probably  occasioned  the 
whole  transaction.  The  women  at  Otaheite  are  handsome, 
mild  and  cheerful  in  their  manners  and  conversation,  pos- 
sessed of  great  sensibility,  and  have  sufficient  delicacy  to 
make  them  admired  and  beloved.  The  chiefs  were  so 
much  attached  to  our  people,  that  they  rather  encouraged 


. 


THE  MUTINY  OF  THE  BOUNTY       103 


eir  stay  among  them  than  otherwise,  and  even  made 
them  promises  of  large  possessions.  Under  these,  and 
many  other  attendant  circumstances  equally  desirable,  it 
is  now  perhaps  not  so  much  to  be  wondered  at,  though 
scarcely  possible  to  have  been  foreseen,  that  a  set  of  sailors, 
most  of  them  void  of  connections,  should  be  led  away: 
especially  when,  in  addition  to  such  powerful  inducements, 
they  imagined  it  in  their  power  to  fix  themselves  in  the 
midst  of  plenty,  on  one  of  the  finest  islands  in  the  world, 
where  they  need  not  labor,  and  where  the  allurements  of 
dissipation  are  beyond  anything  that  can  be  conceived. 

FATE  OF  THE  CASTAWAYS 

My  first  determination  was  to  seek  a  supply  of  bread- 
fruit and  water  at  Tofoa,  and  afterwards  to  sail  for  Ton- 
gataboo,  and  there  risk  a  solicitation  to  Poulaho,  the  king, 
to  equip  our  boat,  and  grant  us  a  supply  of  water  and  pro- 
visions, so  as  to  enable  us  to  reach  the  East  Indies.  The 
quantity  of  provisions  I  found  in  the  boat  was  a  hundred 
and  fifty  pounds  of  bread,  sixteen  pieces  of  pork,  each  piece 
weighing  two  pounds,  six  quarts  of  rum,  six  bottles  of 
wine,  with  twenty-eight  gallons  of  water,  and  four  empty 
barrecoes. 

We  got  to  Tofoa  when  it  was  dark,  but  found  the  shore 
so  steep  and  rocky  that  we  could  not  land.  We  were 
obliged,  therefore,  to  remain  all  night  in  the  boat,  keep- 
ing it  on  the  lee-side  of  the  island,  with  two  oars.  Next 
day  (Wednesday,  April  29)  we  found  a  cove,  where  we 
landed.  I  observed  the  latitude  of  this  cove  to  be  19 
degrees  41  minutes  south.  This  is  the  northwest  part  of 
Tofoa,  the  north-westernmost  of  the  Friendly  Islands.  As 
I  was  resolved  to  spare  the  small  stock  of  provisions  we 
had  in  the  boat,  we  endeavored  to  procure  something 
towards  our  support  on  the  island  itself.  For  two  days 
we  ranged  through  the  island  in  parties,  seeking  for  water, 


104  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

and  anything  in  the  shape  of  provisions,  subsisting,  mean- 
while, on  morsels  of  what  we  had  brought  with  us.  The 
island  at  first  seemed  uninhabited,  but  on  Friday,  May  1, 
one  of  our  exploring  parties  met  with  two  men,  a  woman, 
and  a  child:  the  men  came  with  them  to  the  cove,  and 
brought  two  cocoanut  shells  of  water.  I  endeavored  to 
make  friends  of  these  people,  and  sent  them  away  for 
bread-fruit,  plantains,  and  water.  Soon  after,  other 
natives  came  to  us;  and  by  noon  there  were  thirty  about 
us,  from  whom  we  obtained  a  small  supply.  I  was  much 
puzzled  in  what  manner  to  account  to  the  natives  for  the 
loss  of  my  ship:  I  knew  they  had  too  much  sense  to  be 
amused  with  a  story  that  the  ship  was  to  join  me,  when 
she  was  not  in  sight  from  the  hills.  I  was  at  first  doubt- 
ful whether  I  should  tell  the  real  fact,  or  say  that  the  ship 
had  overset  and  sunk,  and  that  we  only  were  saved:  the 
latter  appeared  to  be  the  most  proper  and  advantageous 
for  us,  and  I  accordingly  instructed  my  people,  that  we 
might  all  agree  in  one  story.  As  I  expected,  inquiries  were 
made  about  the  ship,  and  they  seemed  readily  satisfied  with 
our  account;  but  there  did  not  appear  the  least  symptom 
of  joy  or  sorrow  in  their  faces,  although  I  fancied  I  dis- 
covered some  marks  of  surprise.  Some  of  the  natives 
were  coming  and  going  the  whole  afternoon. 

Towards  evening,  I  had  the  satisfaction  to  find  our  stock 
of  provisions  somewhat  increased ;  but  the  natives  did  not 
appear  to  have  much  to  spare.  What  they  brought  was  in 
such  small  quantities,  that  I  had  no  reason  to  hope  we 
should  be  able  to  procure  from  them  sufficient  to  stock  us 
for  our  voyage.  At  night,  I  served  a  quarter  of  a  bread- 
fruit and  a  cocoanut  to  each  person  for  supper;  and  a 
good  fire  being  made,  all  but  the  watch  went  to  sleep. 

Saturday,  2d.  —  As  there  was  no  certainty  of  our  being 
supplied  with  water  by  the  natives,  I  sent  a  party  among 
the  gullies  in  the  mountains,  with  empty  shells,  to  see  what 


THE  MUTINY  OF  THE  BOUNTY       105 

could  be  found.  In  their  absence  the  natives  came  about 
us,  as  I  expected,  and  in  greater  numbers;  two  canoes  also 
came  in  from  round  the  north  side  of  the  island.  In  one 
of  them  was  an  elderly  chief,  called  Macca-ackavow.  Soon 
after,  some  of  our  foraging  party  returned,  and  with  them 
came  a  good-looking  chief,  called  Egijeefow,  or  Eefow. 

Their  affability  was  of  short  duration,  for  the  natives 
began  to  increase  in  number,  and  I  observed  some  symp- 
toms of  a  design  against  us.  Soon  after,  they  attempted 
to  haul  the  boat  on  shore,  on  which  I  brandished  my  cut- 
lass in  a  threatening  manner,  and  spoke  to  Eefow  to  desire 
them  to  desist:  which  they  did,  and  everything  became 
quiet  again.  My  people,  who  had  been  in  the  mountains, 
now  returned  with  about  three  gallons  of  water.  I  kept 
buying  up  the  little  bread-fruit  that  was  brought  to  us, 
and  likewise  some  spears  to  arm  my  men  with,  having 
only  four  cutlasses,  two  of  which  were  in  the  boat.  As 
we  had  no  means  of  improving  our  situation,  I  told  our 
people  I  would  wait  till  sunset,  by  which  time,  perhaps, 
something  might  happen  in  our  favor;  for  if  we  attempted 
to  go  at  present,  we  must  fight  our  way  through,  which  we 
could  do  more  advantageously  at  night;  and  that,  in  the 
meantime,  we  would  endeavor  to  get  off  to  the  boat  what 
we  had  bought.  The  beach  was  lined  with  the  natives, 
and  we  heard  nothing  but  the  knocking  of  stones  together, 
which  they  had  in  each  hand.  I  knew  very  well  this  was 
the  sign  of  an  attack.  At  noon  I  served  a  cocoanut  and 
a  bread-fruit  to  each  person  for  dinner,  and  gave  some  to 
the  chiefs,  with  whom  I  continued  to  appear  intimate  and 
friendly.  They  frequently  importuned  me  to  sit  down, 
but  I  as  constantly  refused;  for  it  occurred  both  to  Nelson 
and  myself  that  they  intended  to  seize  hold  of  me,  if  I 
gave  them  such  an  opportunity.  Keeping,  therefore,  con- 
stantly on  our  guard,  we  were  suffered  to  eat  our  uncom- 
fortable meal  in  some  quietness. 


106  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

After  dinner,  we  began,  by  little  and  little,  to  get  our 
things  into  the  boat,  which  was  a  troublesome  business,  on 
account  of  the  surf.  I  carefully  watched  the  motions  of 
the  natives,  who  continued  to  increase  in  number;  and 
found  that,  instead  of  their  intention  being  to  leave  us, 
fires  were  made,  and  places  fixed  on  for  their  stay  during 
the  night.  Consultations  were  also  held  among  them,  and 
everything  assured  me  we  should  be  attacked.  I  sent 
orders  to  the  master  that,  when  he  saw  us  coming  down, 
he  should  keep  the  boat  close  to  the  shore,  that  we  might 
the  more  readily  embark. 

The  sun  was  near  setting  when  I  gave  the  word,  on 
which  every  person  who  was  on  shore  with  me  boldly  took 
up  his  proportion  of  things  and  carried  them  to  the  boat. 
The  chiefs  asked  me  if  I  would  not  stay  with  them  all 
night.  I  said  "  No,  I  never  sleep  out  of  my  boat;  but  in 
the  morning  we  will  again  trade  with  you,  and  I  shall 
remain  till  the  weather  is  moderate,  that  we  may  go,  as  we 
have  agreed,  to  see  Poulaho,  at  Tongataboo."  Macca- 
ackavow  then  got  up  and  said,  "  You  will  not  sleep  on 
shore,  then,  Mattie?"  (which  directly  signifies,  we  will 
kill  you) ;  and  he  left  me.  The  onset  was  now  preparing: 
every  one,  as  I  have  described  before,  kept  knocking 
stones  together;  and  Eefow  quitted  me.  All  but  two  or 
three  things  were  in  the  boat,  when  we  walked  down  the 
beach,  every  one  in  a  silent  kind  of  horror.  We  all  got 
into  the  boat,  except  one  man,  who,  while  I  was  getting  on 
board,  quitted  it,  and  ran  up  the  beach  to  cast  the  stern- 
fast  off,  notwithstanding  the  master  and  others  called  to 
him  to  return,  while  they  were  hauling  me  out  of  the 
water. 

I  was  no  sooner  in  the  boat  than  the  attack  began  by 
about  two  hundred  men;  the  unfortunate  poor  man  who 
had  run  up  the  beach  was  knocked  down,  and  the  stones 
flew  like  a  shower  of  shot.  Many  Indians  got  hold  of  the 


THE  MUTINY  OF  THE  BOUNTY       107 

stern  rope,  and  were  near  hauling  the  boat  on  shore,  which 
they  would  certainly  have  effected,  if  I  had  not  had  a  knife 
in  my  pocket,  with  which  I  cut  the  rope.  We  then  hauled 
off  to  the  grapnel,  every  one  being  more  or  less  hurt.  At 
this  time  I  saw  five  of  the  natives  about  the  poor  man  they 
had  killed,  and  two  of  them  were  beating  him  about  the 
head  with  stones  in  their  hands. 

We  had  no  time  to  reflect,  for,  to  my  surprise,  they  filled 
their  canoes  with  stones,  and  twelve  men  came  off  after 
us  to  renew  the  attack;  which  they  did  so  effectually,  as  to 
nearly  disable  us  all.  We  were  obliged  to  sustain  the 
attack  without  being  able  to  return  it,  except  with  such 
stones  as  lodged  in  the  boat.  I  adopted  the  expedient  of 
throwing  overboard  some  clothes,  which,  as  I  expected, 
they  stopped  to  pick  up ;  and  as  it  was  by  this  time  almost 
dark,  they  gave  over  the  attack,  and  returned  towards  the 
shore,  leaving  us  to  reflect  on  our  unhappy  situation. 

The  poor  man  killed  by  the  natives  was  John  Norton : 
this  was  his  second  voyage  with  me  as  a  quarter-master, 
and  his  worthy  character  made  me  lament  his  loss  very 
much.  He  has  left  an  aged  parent,  I  am  told,  whom  he 
supported. 

We  set  our  sails,  and  steered  along  shore  by  the  west 
side  of  the  island  of  Tofoa,  the  wind  blowing  fresh  from 
the  eastward.  My  mind  was  employed  in  considering  what 
was  best  to  be  done,  when  I  was  solicited  by  all  hands  to 
take  them  towards  home;  and  when  I  told  them  that  no 
hopes  of  relief  for  us  remained,  except  what  might  be 
found  at  New  Holland,  till  I  came  to  Timor,  a  distance 
of  full  twelve  hundred  leagues,  where  there  was  a  Dutch 
settlement,  but  in  what  part  of  the  island  I  knew  not,  they 
all  agreed  to  live  on  one  ounce  of  bread  and  a  quarter  of 
a  pint  of  water  per  day.  Therefore,  after  examining  our 
stock  of  provisions,  and  recommending  to  them,  in  the 
most  solemn  manner,  not  to  depart  from  their  promise,  we 


108  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

bore  away  across  a  sea  where  the  navigation  is  but  little 
known,  in  a  small  boat,  twenty-three  feet  long  from  stem 
to  stern,  deep  laden  with  eighteen  men.  I  was  happy,  how- 
ever, to  see  that  every  one  seemed  better  satisfied  with  our 
situation  than  myself. 

Our  stock  of  provisions  consisted  of  about  one  hundred 
and  fifty  pounds  of  bread,  twenty-eight  gallons  of  water, 
twenty  pounds  of  pork,  three  bottles  of  wine,  and  five 
quarts  of  rum.  The  difference  between  this  and  the  quan- 
tity we  had  on  leaving  the  ship  was  principally  owing  to 
our  loss  in  the  bustle  and  confusion  of  the  attack.  A  few 
cocoanuts  were  in  the  boat,  and  some  bread-fruit,  but  the 
latter  was  trampled  to  pieces. 

Sunday,  3d.  —  At  daybreak  the  gale  increased;  the  sun 
rose  very  fiery  and  red  —  a  sure  indication  of  a  severe  gale 
of  wind.  At  eight  it  blew  a  violent  storm,  and  the  sea  ran 
very  high,  so  that  between  the  seas  the  sail  was  becalmed, 
and  when  on  the  top  of  the  sea,  it  was  too  much  to  have 
set;  but  we  could  not  venture  to  take  in  the  sail,  for  we 
were  in  very  imminent  danger  and  distress,  the  sea  curling 
over  the  stern  of  the  boat,  which  obliged  us  to  bail  with  all 
our  might.  A  situation  more  distressing  has  perhaps  sel- 
dom been  experienced. 

Our  bread  was  in  bags,  and  in  danger  of  being  spoiled 
by  the  wet:  to  be  starved  to  death  was  inevitable,  if  this 
could  not  be  prevented.  I  therefore  began  to  examine 
what  clothes  there  were  in  the  boat,  and  what  other  things 
could  be  spared;  and  having  determined  that  only  two 
suits  should  be  kept  for  each  person,  the  rest  was  thrown 
overboard,  with  some  rope  and  spare  sails,  which  light- 
ened the  boat  considerably,  and  we  had  more  room  to  bail 
the  water  out. 

Fortunately  the  carpenter  had  a  good  chest  in  the  boat, 
in  which  we  secured  the  bread  the  first  favorable  moment. 
His  tool-chest  also  was  cleared,  and  the  tools  stowed  in 


THE  MUTINY  OF  THE  BOUNTY       109 

the  bottom  of  the  boat,  so  that  this  became  a  second  con- 
venience. 

I  served  a  teaspoonful  of  rum  to  each  person  (for  we 
were  very  wet  and  cold),  with  a  quarter  of  a  bread-fruit, 
which  was  scarce  eatable,  for  dinner.  Our  engagement 
was  now  strictly  to  be  carried  into  execution,  and  I  was 
fully  determined  to  make  our  provisions  last  eight  weeks, 
let  the  daily  proportion  be  ever  so  small. 

Monday,  4th.  —  At  daylight  our  limbs  were  so  be- 
numbed, that  we  could  scarcely  find  the  use  of  them.  At 
this  time  I  served  a  teaspoonful  of  rum  to  each  person, 
from  which  we  all  found  great  benefit.  Just  before  noon, 
we  discovered  a  small  flat  island,  of  a  moderate  height, 
bearing  west-south-west  four  or  five  leagues.  I  observed 
our  latitude  to  be  18  degrees  58  minutes  south;  our  longi- 
tude was,  by  account,  3  degrees  4  minutes  west  from  the 
island  of  Tofoa,  having  made  a  north  72  degrees  west 
course,  distance  ninety-five  miles,  since  yesterday  noon, 
divided  five  small  cocoanuts  for  our  dinner,  and  every 
me  was  satisfied.  During  the  rest  of  that  day  we  dis- 
:overed  ten  or  twelve  other  islands,  none  of  which  we  ap- 
proached. At  night  I  served  a  few  broken  pieces  of  bread- 
fruit for  supper,  and  performed  prayers. 

Tuesday,  5th.  —  The  night  having  been  fair,  we  awoke 
after  a  tolerable  rest,  and  contentedly  breakfasted  on  a 
few  pieces  of  yams  that  were  found  in  the  boat.  After 
breakfast  we  examined  our  bread,  a  great  deal  of  which 
was  damaged  and  rotten ;  this,  nevertheless,  we  were  glad 
to  keep  for  use.  We  passed  two  islands  in  the  course  of  the 
day.  For  dinner  I  served  some  of  the  damaged  bread,  and 
a  quarter  of  a  pint  of  water. 

Wednesday,  6th.  —  We  still  kept  our  course  in  the 
direction  of  the  North  of  New  Holland,  passing  numerous 
islands  of  various  sizes,  at  none  of  which  I  ventured  to 
land.  Our  allowance  for  the  day  was  a  quarter  of  a  pint 


110  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

of  cocoanut  milk,  and  the  meat,  which  did  not  exceed  two 
ounces  to  each  person.  It  was  received  very  contentedly, 
but  we  suffered  great  drought.  To  our  great  joy  we 
hooked  a  fish,  but  we  were  miserably  disappointed  by  its 
being  lost  in  trying  to  get  it  into  the  boat. 

As  our  lodgings  were  very  miserable,  and  confined  for 
want  of  room,  I  endeavored  to  remedy  the  latter  defect  by 
putting  ourselves  at  watch  and  watch ;  so  that  one-half  al- 
ways sat  up  while  the  other  lay  down  on  the  boat's  bottom, 
or  upon  a  chest,  with  nothing  to  cover  us  but  the  heavens, 
our  limbs  were  dreadfully  cramped,  for  we  could  not 
stretch  them  out;  and  the  nights  were  so  cold,  and  we  so 
constantly  wet,  that  after  a  few  hours'  sleep,  we  could 
scarcely  move. 

Thursday,  1th.  —  Being  very  wet  and  cold,  I  served  a 
spoonful  of  rum  and  a  morsel  of  bread  for  breakfast.  We 
still  kept  sailing  among  the  islands,  from  one  of  which  two 
large  canoes  put  out  in  chase  of  us ;  but  we  left  them  behind. 
Whether  these  canoes  had  any  hostile  intention  against  us 
must  remain  a  doubt :  perhaps  we  might  have  benefited  by 
an  intercourse  with  them ;  but,  in  our  defenceless  situation, 
to  have  made  the  experiment  would  have  been  risking  too 
much. 

I  imagine  these  to  be  the  islands  called  Feejee,  as  their 
extent,  direction,  and  distance  from  the  Friendly  Islands 
answer  to  the  description  given  of  them  by  those  islanders. 
Heavy  rain  came  on  at  four  o'clock,  when  every  person 
did  their  utmost  to  catch  some  water,  and  we  increased  our 
stock  to  thirty-four  gallons,  besides  quenching  our  thirst 
for  the  first  time  since  we  had  been  at  sea ;  but  an  attendant 
consequence  made  us  pass  the  night  very  miserably,  for, 
being  extremely  wet,  and  having  no  dry  things  to  shift  or 
cover  us,  we  experienced  cold  shiverings  scarcely  to  be  con- 
ceived. Most  fortunately  for  us,  the  forenoon,  Friday 
8th,  turned  out  fair,  and  we  stripped  and  dried  our  clothes. 


THE  MUTINY  OF  THE  BOUNTY       111 

The  allowance  I  issued  to-day  was  an  ounce  and  a  half  of 
pork,  a  teaspoonful  of  rum,  half  a  pint  of  cocoanut  milk, 
and  an  ounce  of  bread.  The  rum,  though  so  small  in  quan- 
tity, was  of  the  greatest  service.  A  fishing-line  was  gen- 
erally towing  from  the  stern  of  the  boat,  but  though  we 
saw  great  numbers  of  fish,  we  could  never  catch  one. 

In  the  afternoon  we  cleaned  out  the  boat,  and  it  em- 
ployed us  till  sunset  to  get  everything  dry  and  in  order. 
Hitherto  I  had  issued  the  allowance  by  guess,  but  I  now 
made  a  pair  of  scales  with  two  cocoanut  shells,  and  having 
accidentally  some  pistol-balls  in  the  boat,  twenty-five  of 
which  weighed  one  pound,  or  sixteen  ounces,  I  adopted 
one  ball  as  the  proportion  of  weight  that  each  person 
should  receive  of  bread  at  the  times  I  served  it.  I  also 
amused  all  hands  with  describing  the  situation  of  New 
Guinea  and  New  Holland,  and  gave  them  every  informa- 
tion in  my  power,  that,  in  case  any  accident  happened  to 
me,  those  who  survived  might  have  some  idea  of  what 
they  were  about,  and  be  able  to  find  their  way  to  Timor, 
which  at  present  they  knew  nothing  of  more  than  the 
name,  and  some  not  even  that.  At  night  I  served  a  quar- 
ter of  a  pint  of  water  and  half  an  ounce  of  bread  for 
supper. 

Saturday,  9th. — About  nine  in  the  evening  the  clouds  be- 
gan to  gather,  and  we  had  a  prodigious  fall  of  rain,  with 
severe  thunder  and  lightning.  By  midnight  we  caught 
about  twenty  gallons  of  water.  Being  miserably  wet  and 
cold,  I  served  to  the  people  a  teaspoonful  of  rum  each,  to 
enable  them  to  bear  with  their  distressed  situation.  The 
weather  continued  extremely  bad,  and  the  wind  increased ; 
we  spent  a  very  miserable  night,  without  sleep,  except  such 
as  could  be  got  in  the  midst  of  rain.  The  day  brought  no 
relief  but  its  light.  The  sea  broke  over  us  so  much,  that 
two  men  were  constantly  bailing;  and  we  had  no  choice 


1 1 2  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

how  to  steer,  being  obliged  to  keep  before  the  waves,  for 
fear  of  the  boat  filling. 

The  allowance  now  regularly  served  to  each  person  was 
i -2 5th  of  a  pound  of  bread,  and  a  quarter  of  a  pint  of 
water,  at  eight  in  the  morning,  at  noon,  and  at  sunset.  To- 
day I  gave  about  half  an  ounce  of  pork  for  dinner,  which, 
though  any  moderate  person  would  have  considered  only 
as  a  mouthful,  was  divided  into  three  or  four. 

All  Sunday,  Monday,  Tuesday,  Wednesday,  Thursday, 
and  Friday,  the  wet  weather  continued,  with  heavy  seas 
and  squalls.  As  there  was  no  prospect  of  getting  our 
clothes  dried,  my  plan  was  to  make  every  one  strip,  and 
wring  them  through  the  salt  water,  by  which  means  they 
received  a  warmth  that,  while  wet  with  rain,  they  could  not 
have.  We  were  constantly  shipping  seas  and  bailing,  and 
were  very  wet  and  cold  during  the  night.  The  sight  of  the 
islands  which  we  were  always  passing  served  only  to  in- 
crease the  misery  of  our  situation.  We  were  very  little 
better  than  starving,  with  plenty  in  view;  yet  to  attempt 
procuring  anyrelief  was  attended  with  so  much  danger, 
that  prolonging  of  life,  even  in  the  midst  of  misery,  was 
thought  preferable,  while  there  remained  hopes  of  being 
able  to  surmount  our  hardships.  For  my  own  part,  I  con- 
sider the  general  run  of  cloudy  weather  to  be  a  blessing  of 
Providence.  Hot  weather  would  have  caused  us  to  have 
died  with  thirst,  and  probably  being  so  constantly  covered 
with  rain  or  sea  protected  us  from  that  dreadful  calamity. 

Saturday,  idth. — The  sun  breaking  out  through  the 
clouds  gave  us  hopes  of  drying  our  wet  clothes;  but  the 
sunshine  was  of  short  duration.  We  had  strong  breezes 
at  south-east  by  south,  and  dark  gloomy  weather,  with 
storms  of  thunder,  lightning,  and  rain.  The  night  was 
truly  horrible,  and  not  a  star  to  be  seen,  so  that  our  steer- 
age was  uncertain. 

Sunday,  ijth. — At  dawn  of  day  I  found  every  person 


THE  MUTINY  OF  THE  BOUNTY       113 

complaining,  and  some  of  them  solicited  extra  allowance, 
which  I  positively  refused.  Our  situation  was  miserable; 
always  wet,  and  suffering  extreme  cold  during  the  night, 
without  the  least  shelter  from  the  weather.  Being  con- 
stantly obliged  to  bail,  to  keep  the  boat  from  filling,  was 
perhaps  not  to  be  reckoned  an  evil-  as  it  gave  us 'exercise. 

The  little  rum  we  had  was  of  great  service.  When  our 
nights  were  particularly  distressing,  I  generally  served  a 
teaspoonful  or  two  to  each  person;  and  it  was  always 
joyful  tidings  when  they  heard  of  my  intentions. 

The  night  was  dark  and  dismal,  the  sea  constantly 
breaking  over  us,  and  nothing  but  the  wind  and  waves  to 
direct  our  steerage.  It  was  my  intention,  if  possible,  to 
make  to  New  Holland,  to  the  southwest  of  Endeavor 
Straits,  being  sensible  that  it  was  necessary  to  preserve  such 
a  situation  as  would  make  a  southerly  wind  a  fair  one;  that 
we  might  range  along  the  reefs  till  an  opening  should  be 
found  into  smooth  water,  and  we  the  sooner  be  able  to  pick 
up  some  refreshments. 

Monday  and  Tuesday  were  terrible  days,  heavy  rain 
with  lightning.  We  were  always  bailing.  On  Wednesday 
the  2oth,  at  dawn  of  day,  some  of  my  people  seemed  half 
dead.  Our  appearance  was  horrible,  and  I  could  look  no 
way  but  I  caught  the  eye  of  some  one  in  distress.  Extreme 
hunger  was  now  too  evident;  but  no  one  suffered  from 
thirst,  nor  had  we  much  inclination  to  drink  —  that  desire, 
perhaps,  being  satisfied  through  the  skin.  The  little  sleep 
we  got  was  in  the  midst  of  water,  and  we  constantly  awoke 
with  severe  cramps  and  pains  in  our  bones. 

Thursday,  Friday  and  Saturday,  we  were  in  the  same 
distressed  condition,  and  I  began  to  fear  that  such  another 
night  or  two  would  put  an  end  to  us.  On  Saturday,  how- 
ever, the  wind  moderated  in  the  evening,  and  the  weather 
looked  much  better,  which  rejoiced  all  hands,  so  that  they 
ate  their  scanty  allowance  with  more  satisfaction  than  for 


114  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

some  time  past.    The  night  also  was  fair ;  but  being  always 
wet  with  the  sea,  we  suffered  much  from  the  cold. 

Sunday,  24th. — A  fine  morning,  I  had  the  pleasure  to 
see  produce  some  cheerful  countenances;  and  the  first  time, 
for  fifteen  days  past,  we  experienced  comfort  from  the 
warmth  of  the  sun.  We  stripped,  and  hung  our  clothes  up 
to  dry,  which  were  by  this  time  become  so  threadbare,  that 
they  would  not  keep  out  either  wet  or  cold. 

This  afternoon  we  had  many  birds  about  us  which  are 
never  seen  far  from  land,  such  as  boobies  and  noddies.  As 
the  sea  began  to  run  fair,  and  we  shipped  but  little  water, 
I  took  the  opportunity  to  examine  into  the  state  of  our 
bread,  and  found  that,  according  to  the  present  mode  of 
issuing,  there  was  a  sufficient  quantity  remaining  for  twenty- 
nine  days'  allowance,  by  which  time  I  hoped  we  should  be 
able  to  reach  Timor;  but  as  this  was  very  uncertain,  and  it 
was  possible  that,  after  all,  we  might  be  obliged  to  go  to 
Java,  I  determined  to  proportion  the  allowance  so  as  to 
make  our  stock  hold  out  six  weeks.  I  was  apprehensive 
that  this  would  be  ill  received,  and  that  it  would  require  my 
utmost  resolution  to  enforce  it;  for  small  as  the  quantity 
was  which  I  intended  to  take  away  for  our  future  good,  yet 
it  might  appear  to  my  people  like  robbing  them  of  life ;  and 
some,  who  were  less  patient  than  their  companions,  I  ex- 
pected would  very  ill  brook  it.  However,  on  my  represent- 
ing the  necessity  of  guarding  against  delays  that  might  be 
occasioned  in  our  voyage  by  contrary  winds  or  other  causes, 
and  promising  to  enlarge  upon  the  allowance  as  we  got  on, 
they  cheerfully  agreed  to  my  proposal.  It  was  accordingly 
settled  that  every  person  should  receive  l-25th  of  a  pound 
of  bread  for  breakfast,  and  the  same  quantity  for  dinner; 
so  that,  by  omitting  the  proportion  for  supper,  we  had 
forty-three  days*  allowance. 

Monday,  2$th. — At  noon  some  noddies  came  so  near  to 
us,  that  one  of  them  was  caught  by  hand.  This  bird  was 


THE  MUTINY  OF  THE  BOUNTY       115 

about  the  size  of  a  small  pigeon.  I  divided  it,  with  its  en- 
trails, into  eighteen  portions  and  by  a  well-known  method 
at  sea,  of  "Who  shall  have  this?"  1  it  was  distributed,  with 
the  allowance  of  bread  and  water  for  dinner,  and  ate  up, 
bones  and  all,  with  salt  water  for  sauce.  I  observed  the 
latitude  13  degrees  32  minutes  south;  longitude  made  35 
degrees  19  minutes  west,  course  north  89  degrees  west,  dis- 
tance one  hundred  and  eight  miles. 

In  the  evening,  several  boobies  flying  very  near  to  us, 
we  had  the  good  fortune  to  catch  one  of  them.  This  bird  is 
as  large  as  a  duck.  I  directed  the  bird  to  be  killed  for  sup- 
per, and  the  blood  to  be  given  to  three  of  the  people  who 
were  most  distressed  for  want  of  food.  The  body,  with 
the  entrails,  beak,  and  feet,  I  divided  into  eighteen  shares, 
and,  with  an  allowance  of  bread,  which  I  made  a  merit  of 
granting,  we  made  a  good  supper,  compared  with  our  usual 
fare. 

Sailing  on  Tuesday,  Wednesday,  and  Thursday,  I  at 
length  became  satisfied  that  we  were  approaching  New 
Holland.  This  was  actually  the  case ;  and  after  passing  the 
reefs  which  bound  that  part  of  the  coast,  we  found  our- 
selves in  smooth  water.  Two  islands  lay  about  four  miles  to 
the  west  by  north,  and  appeared  eligible  for  a  resting-place, 
if  for  nothing  more;  but  on  our  approach  to  the  nearest  is- 
land, it  proved  to  be  only  a  'heap  of  stones,  and  its  size  too 
inconsiderable  to  shelter  the  boat.  We  therefore  proceed- 
ed to  the  next,  which  was  close  to  it,  and  towards  the  main. 
We  landed  to  examine  if  there  were  any  signs  of  the  na- 
tives being  near  us :  we  saw  some  old  fireplaces,  but  nothing 
to  make  me  apprehend  that  this  would  be  an  unsafe  situa- 


*One  person  turns  his  back  on  the  object  that  is  to  be  divided;  another 
then  points  separately  to  the  portions,  at  each  of  them  asking  aloud,  "Who 
shall  have  this?"  to  which  the  first  answers  by  naming  somebody.  This 
impartial  method  of  division  gives  every  man  an  equal  chance  of  the 

best  share. 


1 1 6  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

tion  for  the  night.  Every  one  was  anxious  to  find  some- 
thing to  eat  and  it  was  soon  discovered  that  there  were 
oysters  on  these  rocks,  for  the  tide  was  out;  but  it  was 
nearly  dark,  and  only  a  few  could  be  gathered.  I  de- 
termined, therefore,  to  wait  till  the  morning,  when  I  should 
know  better  how  to  proceed. 

Friday ,  29th. — As  there  were  no  appearances  to  make 
me  imagine  that  any  of  the  natives  were  near  us,  I  sent 
out  parties  in  search  of  supplies,  while  others  of  the  people 
were  putting  the  boat  in  order.  The  parties  returned, 
highly  rejoiced  at  having  found  plenty  of  oysters  and  fresh 
water.  I  had  also  made  a  fire  by  the  help  of  a  small  mag- 
nifying glass;  and,  what  was  still  more  fortunate,  we 
found  among  a  few  things  which  had  been  thrown  into  the 
boat,  and  saved,  a  piece  of  brimstone  and  a  tinder-box,  so 
that  I  secured  fire  for  the  future. 

One  of  the  people  had  been  so  provident  as  to  bring 
away  with  him  from  the  ship  a  copper  pot:  by  being  in 
possession  of  this  article,  we  were  enabled  to  make  a 
proper  use  of  the  supply  we  now  obtained;  for,  with  a 
mixture  of  bread,  and  a  little  pork,  we  made  a  stew  that 
might  have  been  relished  by  people  of  far  more  delicate 
appetites,  and  of  which  each  person  received  a  full  pint. 
The  general  complaints  of  disease  among  us  were  a  dizzi- 
ness in  the  head,  great  weakness  of  the  joints,  and  violent 
tenesmus. 

The  oysters  which  we  found  grew  so  fast  to  the  rocks, 
that  it  was  with  difficulty  they  could  be  broken  off,  and  at 
length  we  discovered  it  to  be  the  most  expeditious  way  to 
open  them  where  they  were  fixed.  They  were  of  a  good 
size,  and  well  tasted.  To  add  to  this  happy  circumstance, 
in  the  hollow  of  the  land  there  grew  some  wire-grass,  which 
indicated  a  moist  situation.  On  forcing  a  stick  about  three 
feet  long  into  the  ground,  we  found  water,  and  with  little 


THE  MUTINY  OF  THE  BOUNTY       117 

trouble  dug  a  well,  which  produced  as  much  as  our  neces- 
sities required. 

As  the  day  was  the  anniversary  of  the  restoration  of 
King  Charles  II.,  I  named  the  island  Restoration  Island. 
Our  short  stay  there,  with  the  supplies  which  it  afforded 
us,  made  a  visible  alteration  for  the  better  in  our  appear- 
ance. Net  day,  Saturday  the  30th,  at  four  o' clock,  we  were 
preparing  to  embark,  when  about  twenty  of  the  natives 
appeared,  running  and  hallooing  to  us,  on  the  oposite  shore. 
They  were  each  armed  with  a  spear  or  lance,  and  a  short 
weapon  which  they  carried  in  their  left  hand.  They  made 
signs  for  us  to  come  to  them,  but  I  thought  it  prudent  to 
make  the  best  of  our  way.  They  were  naked,  and  appar- 
ently black,  and  their  hair  or  wool  bushy  and  short. 

Sunday,  31  st. — Many  small  islands  were  in  sight  to  the 
northeast.  We  landed  at  one  of  a  good  height,  bearing 
north  one-half  west.  The  shore  was  rocky,  but  the  water 
was  smooth,  and  we  landed  without  difficulty.  I  sent  two 
parties  out,  one  to  the  northward,  and  the  other  to  the 
southward,  to  seek  for  supplies,  and  others  I  ordered  to 
stay  by  the  boat.  On  this  occasion  fatigue  and  weakness  so 
far  got  the  better  of  their  sense  of  duty,  that  some  of  the 
people  expressed  their  discontent  at  having  worked  harder 
than  their  companions,  and  declared  that  they  would  rather 
be  without  their  dinner  than  go  in  search  of  it.  One  person, 
in  particular,  went  so  far  as  to  tell  me,  with  a  mutinous 
look,  that  he  was  as  good  a  man  as  myself.  It  was  not 
possible  for  me  to  judge  where  this  might  have  an  end, 
if  not  stopped  in  time ;  therefore,  to  prevent  such  disputes 
in  future,  I  determined  either  to  preserve  my  command,  or 
die  in  the  attempt;  and  seizing  a  cutlass,  I  ordered  him  to 
take  hold  of  another  and  defend  himself,  on  which  he 
called  out  that  I  was  going  to  kill  him,  and  immediately 
made  concessions.  I  did  not  allow  this  to  interfere  further 
with  the  harmony  of  the  boat's  crew  and  everything  soon 


1 1 8  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

became  quiet.  We  here  procured  some  oysters  and  clams, 
also  some  dog-fish  caught  in  the  holes  of  the  rocks,  and  a 
supply  of  water. 

Leaving  this  island,  which  I  named  Sunday  Island,  we 
continued  our  course  towards  Endeavor  Straits.  During 
our  voyage  Nelson  became  very  ill,  but  gradually  recovered. 
Next  day  we  landed  at  another  island,  to  see  what  we  could 
get.  There  were  proofs  that  the  island  was  occasionally 
visited  by  natives  from  New  Holland.  Encamping  on  the 
shore,  I  sent  out  one  party  to  watch  for  turtle,  and  another 
to  try  to  catch  birds.  About  midnight  the  bird  party  re- 
turned, with  only  twelve  noddies,  birds  which  I  have  already 
described  to  be  about  the  size  of  pigeons;  but  if  it  had  not 
been  for  the  folly  and  obstinacy  of  one  of  the  party,  who 
separated  from  the  other  two,  and  disturbed  the  birds,  they 
might  have  caught  a  great  number.  I  was  so  much  pro- 
voked at  my  plans  being  thus  defeated,  that  I  gave  this 
offender  a  good  beating.  This  man  afterwards  confessed 
that,  wandering  away  from  his  companions,  he  had  eaten 
nine  birds  raw.  Our  turtling  party  had  no  success. 

Tuesday  and  Wednesday  we  still  kept  our  course  north- 
west, touching  at  an  island  or  two  for  oysters  and  clams. 
We  had  now  been  six  days  on  the  coast  of  New  Holland, 
and  but  for  the  refreshment  which  our  visit  to  its  shore 
afforded  us,  it  is  all  but  certain  that  we  must  have  perished. 
Now,  however,  it  became  clear  that  we  were  leaving  it 
behind,  and  were  commencing  our  adventurous  voyage 
through  the  open  sea  to  Timor. 

On  Wednesday,  June  3rd,  at  eight  o'clock  in  the  eve- 
ning, we  once  more  launched  into  the  open  ocean.  Mis- 
erable as  our  situation  was  in  every  respect,  I  was  secretly 
surprised  to  see  that  it  did  not  appear  to  affect  any  one  so 
strongly  as  myself.  I  encouraged  every  one  with  hopes 
that  eight  or  ten  days  would  bring  us  to  a  land  of  safety; 
and  after  praying  to  God  for  a  continuance  of  His  most 


THE  MUTINY  OF  THE  BOUNTY       119 

gracious  protection,  I  served  an  allowance  of  water  for 
supper,  and  directed  our  course  to  the  west-south-west,  to 
counteract  the  southerly  winds  in  case  they  should  blow 
strong.  For  six  days  our  voyage  continued;  a  dreary  re- 
petition of  those  sufferings  which  we  had  experienced  before 
reaching  New  Holland.  In  the  course  of  the  night  we  were 
constantly  wet  with  the  sea,  and  exposed  to  cold  and  shiver- 
ings  ;  and  in  the  daytime  we  had  no  addition  to  our  scanty 
allowance,  save  a  booby  and  a  small  dolphin  that  we  caught, 
the  former  on  Friday  the  5th,  and  the  latter  on  Monday 
the  8th.  Many  of  us  were  ill,  and  the  men  complained 
heavily.  On  Wednesday  the  10th,  after  a  very  comfort- 
less night,  there  was  a  visible  alteration  for  the  worse  in 
many  of  the  people,  which  gave  me  great  apprehensions. 
An  extreme  weakness,  swelled  legs,  hollow  and  ghastly 
countenances,  a  more  than  common  inclination  to  sleep, 
with  an  apparent  debility  of  understanding,  seemed  to  me 
the  melancholy  presages  of  an  approaching  dissolution. 

Thursday,  1 1  th. — Every  one  received  the  customary 
allowance  of  bread  and  water,  and  an  extra  allowance  of 
water  was  given  to  those  who  were  most  in  need.  At  noon 
I  observed  in  latitude  9  degrees  41  minutes  south;  course 
south  77  degrees  west,  distance  109  miles;  longitude  made 
13  degrees  49  minutes  west.  I  had  little  doubt  of  having 
now  passed  the  meridian  of  the  eastern  part  of  Timor, 
which  is  laid  down  in  128  degrees  east.  This  diffused  uni- 
versal joy  and  satisfaction. 

Friday,  12  th. — At  three  in  the  morning,  with  an  excess 
of  joy,  we  discovered  Timor  bearing  from  west-south-west 
to  west-north-west,  and  I  hauled  on  a  wind  to  the  north- 
north-east  till  daylight,  when  the  land  bore  from  south-west 
by  south  to  north-east  by  north;  our  distance  from  the 
shore  two  leagues.  It  is  not  possible  for  me  to  describe  the 
pleasure  which  the  blessing  of  the  sight  of  this  land  diffused 
among  us.  It  appeared  scarcely  credible  to  ourselves  that, 


120  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

in  an  open  boat,  and  so  poorly  provided,  we  should  have 
been  able  to  reach  the  coast  of  Timor  in  forty-one  days 
after  leaving  Tofoa,  having  in  that  time  run,  by  our  log,  a 
distance  of  3,618  miles  and  that,  notwithstanding  our  ex- 
treme distress,  no  one  should  have  perished  in  the  voyage. 

I  have  already  mentioned  that  I  knew  not  where  the 
Dutch  settlement  was  situated,  but  I  had  a  faint  idea  that 
it  was  at  the  south-west  part  of  the  island.  I  therefore, 
after  daylight,  bore  away  along  shore  to  the  south-south- 
west, which  I  was  the  more  readily  induced  to  do,  as  the 
wind  would  not  suffer  us  to  to  go  towards  the  north-east 
without  great  loss  of  time. 

We  coasted  along  the  island  in  the  direction  in  which 
I  conceived  the  Dutch  settlement  to  lie,  and  next  day, 
about  two  o'clock,  I  came  to  a  grapnel  in  a  small  sandy 
bay,  where  we  saw  a  hut,  a  dog,  and  some  cattle.  Here 
I  learned  that  the  Dutch  governor  resided  at  a  place 
called  Coupang,  which  was  some  distance  to  the  north- 
east. I  made  signs  for  one  of  the  Indians  who  came 
to  the  beach  to  go  in  the  boat  and  show  us  the  way 
to  Coupang,  intimating  that  I  would  pay  him  for  his 
trouble;  the  man  readily  complied,  and  came  into  the 
boat.  The  Indians,  who  were  of  a  dark  tawny  color, 
brought  us  a  few  pieces  of  dried  turtle  and  some  ears 
of  Indian  corn.  This  last  was  the  most  welcome,  for 
the  turtle  was  so  hard,  that  it  could  not  be  eaten  with- 
out being  first  soaked  in  hot  water.  They  offered  to 
bring  us  some  other  refreshments,  if  I  would  wait;  but, 
as  the  pilot  was  willing,  I  determined  to  push  on.  It 
was  about  half-past  four  when  we  sailed. 

Sunday,  14/ft.  —  At  one  o'clock  in  the  morning,  after 
the  most  happy  and  sweet  sleep  that  ever  men  enjoyed, 
we  weighed,  and  continued  to  keep  the  east  shore  on 
board,  in  very  smooth  water.  The  report  of  two  can- 
non that  were  fired  gave  new  life  to  every  one;  and 


THE  MUTINY  OF  THE  BOUNTY       121 

soon  after,  we  discovered  two  square-rigged  vessels  and 
a  cutter  at  anchor  to  the  eastward.  After  hard  rowing, 
we  came  to  a  grapnel  near  daylight,  off  a  small  fort  and 
town,  which  the  pilot  told  me  was  Coupang. 

On  landing,  I  was  surrounded  by  many  people,  Indi- 
ans and  Dutch,  with  an  English  sailor  among  them.  A 
Dutch  captain,  named  Spikerman,  showed  me  great 
kindness,  and  waited  on  the  governor,  who  was  ill,  to 
know  at  what  time  I  could  see  him.  Eleven  o'clock 
having  been  appointed  for  the  interview,  I  desired  my 
people  to  come  on  shore,  which  was  as  much  as  some  of 
them  could  do,  being  scarce  able  to  walk;  they,  however, 
were  helped  to  Captain  Spikerman's  house,  and  found 
tea,  with  bread  and  butter,  provided  for  their  breakfast. 

The  abilities  of  a  painter,  perhaps,  could  seldom  have 
been  displayed  to  more  advantage  than  in  the  delinea- 
tion of  the  two  groups  of  figures  which  at  this  time  pre- 
sented themselves  to  each  other.  An  indifferent  spec- 
tator would  have  been  at  a  loss  which  most  to  admire 
—the  eyes  of  famine  sparkling  at  immediate  relief,  or 
the  horror  of  their  preservers  at  the  sight  of  so  many 
spectres,  whose  ghastly  countenances,  if  the  cause  had 
been  unknown,  would  rather  have  excited  terror  than 
pity.  Our  bodies  were  nothing  but  skin  and  bone,  our 
limbs  were  full  of  sores,  and  we  were  clothed  in  rags: 
in  this  condition,  with  tears  of  joy  and  gratitude  flow- 
ing down  our  cheeks,  the  people  of  Timor  beheld  us 
with  a  mixture  of  horror,  surprise,  and  pity. 

The  governor,  Mr.  William  Adrian  Van  Este,  not- 
withstanding extreme  ill  health,  became  so  anxious 
about  us,  that  I  saw  him  before  the  appointed  time. 
He  received  me  with  great  affection,  and  gave  me  the 
fullest  proofs  that  he  was  possessed  of  every  feeling  of 
a  humane  and  good  man.  Though  his  infirmity  was 
so  great  that  he  could  not  do  the  office  of  a  friend  him- 


122  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

self,  he  said  he  would  give  such  orders  as  I  might  be 
certain  would  procure  us  every  supply  we  wanted.  A 
house  should  be  immediately  prepared  for  me,  and  with 
respect  to  my  people,  he  said  that  I  might  have  room 
for  them  either  at  the  hospital  or  on  board  of  Captain 
Spikerman's  ship,  which  lay  in  the  road.  .  .  . 

FATE  OF  THE  MUTINEERS COLONY  OF 

PITCAIRN'S  ISLAND 

The  intelligence  of  the  mutiny,  and  the  sufferings  of 
Bligh  and  his  companions,  naturally  excited  a  great 
sensation  in  England.  Bligh  was  immediately  pro- 
moted to  the  rank  of  commander,  and  Captain  Edwards 
was  despatched  to  Otaheite,  in  the  Pandora  frigate,  with 
instructions  to  search  for  the  Bounty  and  her  mutinous 
crew,  and  bring  them  to  England.  The  Pandora 
reached  Matavai  Bay  on  the  23d  of  March,  1791;  and 
even  before  she  had  come  to  anchor,  Joseph  Coleman, 
formerly  armorer  of  the  Bounty,  pushed  off  from  shore 
in  a  canoe,  and  came  on  board.  In  the  course  of  two 
days  afterwards,  the  whole  of  the  remainder  of  the 
Bounty's  crew  (in  number  sixteen)  then  on  the  island 
surrendered  themselves,  with  the  exception  of  two,  who 
fled  to  the  mountains  where,  as  it  afterwards  appeared, 
they  were  murdered  by  the  natives. 

Nearly  twenty  years  elapsed  after  the  period  of  the 
above  occurrences,  and  all  recollection  of  the  Bounty 
and  her  wrecked  crew  had  passed  away,  when  an 
accidental  discovery,  as  interesting  as  unexpected,  once 
more  recalled  public  attention  to  that  event.  The 
captain  of  an  American  schooner  having,  in  1808, 
accidentally  touched  at  an  island  up  to  that  time  sup- 
posed to  be  uninhabited,  called  Pitcairn's  Island,  found 
a  community  speaking  English,  who  represented  them- 
selves as  the  descendants  of  the  mutineers  of  the 


THE  MUTINY  OF  THE  BOUNTY       123 

Bounty,  of  whom  there  was  still  one  man,  of  the  name 
of  Alexander  Smith,  alive  amongst  them.  Intelli- 
gence of  this  singular  circumstance  was  sent  by  the 
American  captain  (Folger)  to  Sir  Sydney  Smith  at  Val- 
paraiso, and  by  him  transmitted  to  the  Lords  of  the 
Admiralty.  But  the  government  was  at  that  time 
perhaps  too  much  engaged  in  the  events  of  the  conti- 
nental war  to  attend  to  the  information,  nor  was  any- 
thing further  heard  of  this  interesting  little  society 
until  1814.  In  that  year  two  British  men-of-war, 
cruising  in  the  Pacific,  made  Pitcairn's  Island,  and  on 
nearing  the  shore,  saw  plantations  regularly  and  orderly 
laid  out.  Soon  afterwards  they  observed  a  few  natives 
coming  down  a  steep  descent,  with  their  canoes  on  their 
loulders,  and  in  a  few  minutes  perceived  one  of  these 
tittle  vessels  darting  through  a  heavy  surf,  and  paddling 
towards  the  ships.  But  their  astonishment  may  be 
lagined  when,  on  coming  alongside,  they  were  hailed 
in  good  English  with,  "Wont  you  heave  us  a  rope 

low?"  This  being  done,  a  young  man  sprang  up  the 
>ide  with  extraordinary  activity,  and  stood  on  the 

leek  before   them.      In  answer   to   the   question    "Who 

ire  you?"  he  replied  that  his  name  was  Thursday 
October  Christian,  son  of  the  late  Fletcher  Christian, 

>y  an  Otaheitan  mother;  that  he  was  the  first  born  on 
the  island,  and  was  so  named  because  he  was  born  on 
a  Thursday  in  October.  All  this  sounded  singular  and 
incredible  in  the  ears  of  the  British  captains,  Sir 
Thomas  Staines  and  Mr.  Pipon;  but  they  were  soon 
satisfied  of  its  truth.  Young  Christian  was  at  this 
time  about  twenty-four  years  old,  a  tall  handsome 
youth,  fully  six  feet  high,  with  black  hair,  and  an 
open  interesting  English  countenance.  As  he  wore  no 
clothes,  except  a  piece  of  cloth  round  his  loins,  and  a 
straw-hat  ornamented  with  black  cock's  feathers,  his 


124  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

fine  figure  and  well-shaped  muscular  limbs  were  dis- 
played to  great  advantage,  and  attracted  general  ad- 
miration. His  body  was  much  tanned  by  exposure 
to  the  weather;  but  although  his  complexion  was 
somewhat  brown,  it  wanted  that  tinge  of  red  peculiar 
to  the  natives  of  the  Pacific.  He  spoke  English  cor- 
rectly both  in  grammar  and  pronunciation;  and  his 
frank  and  ingenuous  deportment  excited  in  every  one 
the  liveliest  feelings  of  compassion  and  interest.  His 
com'panion  was  a  fine  handsome  youth,  of  seventeen  or 
eighteen  years  of  age,  named  George  Young,  son  of  one 
of  the  Bounty's  midshipmen. 

The  youths  expressed  great  suprise  at  everything 
they  saw,  especially  a  cow,  which  they  supposed  to  be 
either  a  huge  goat  or  a  horned  sow,  having  never  seen 
any  other  quadrupeds.  When  questioned  concerning 
the  Bounty,  they  referred  the  captains  to  an  old  man 
on  shore,  the  only  surviving  Englishman,  whose  name, 
they  said,  was  John  Adams,  but  who  proved  to  be  the 
identical  Alexander  Smith  before-mentioned,  having 
changed  his  name  from  some  caprice  or  other.  The 
officers  went  ashore  with  the  youths,  and  were  received 
by  old  Adams  (as  we  shall  now  call  him),  who  con- 
ducted them  to  his  house,  and  treated  them  to  an  ele- 
gant repast  of  eggs,  fowl,  yams,  plantains,  bread-fruit, 
etc.  They  now  learned  from  him  an  account  of  the  fate  of 
his  companions,  who,  with  himself,  preferred  accompa- 
nying Christian  in  the  Bounty  to  remaining  at  Otaheite — 
which  account  agreed  with  that  he  afterwards  gave  at 
greater  length  to  Captain  Beechey  in  1828.  Our  limits 
will  not  permit  us  to  detail  all  the  interesting  particulars 
at  length,  as  we  could  have  wished,  but  they  are  in  sub- 
stance as  follows: — 

— ^It  was  Christian's  object,  in  order  to  avoid  the  ven- 
geance of  the  British  law,  to  proceed  to  some  unknown 


THE  MUTINY  OF  THE  BOUNTY,       125 

and  uninhabited  island,  and  the  Marquesas  Islands  were 
first  fixed  upon.  But  Christian,  on  reading  Captain  Car- 
taret's  account  of  Pitcairn's  Island,  thought  it  better 
adapted  for  the  purpose,  and  shaped  his  course  thither. 
Having  landed  and  traversed  it,  they  found  it  every  way 
suitable  to  their  wishes,  possessing  water,  wood,  a  good 
soil,  and  some  fruits.  Having  ascertained  all  this,  they 
returned  on  board,  and  having  landed  their  hogs,  goats, 
and  poultry,  and  gutted  the  ship  of  everything  that  could 
be  useful  to  them,  they  set  fire  to  her,  and  destroyed  every 
vestige  that  might  lead  to  the  discovery  of  their  retreat. 
This  was  on  the  23d  of  January  1790.  The  island  was 

icn  divided  into  nine  equal  portions  amongst  them  a 
mitable  spot  of  neutral  ground  being  reserved  for  a  vil- 
lage. The  poor  Otaheitans  now  found  themselves  re- 
luced  to  the  condition  of  mere  slaves;  but  they  patiently 

ibmitted,  and  everything  went  on  peacefully  for  two 
rears.  About  that  time  Williams,  one  of  the  seamen, 
having  the  misfortune  to  lose  his  wife,  forcibly  took  the 

rife  of  one  of  the  Otaheitans,  which,  together  with  their 
:ontinued  ill-usage,  so  exasperated  the  latter  that  they 
:ormed  a  plan  for  murdering  the  whole  of  their  oppres- 

>rs.     The  plot,  however,  was  discovered,  and  revealed 

>y  the  Englishmen's  wives,  and  two  of  the  Otaheitans 

rere  put  to  death.  But  the  surviving  natives  soon  after- 
ds  matured  a  more  successful  conspiracy,  and  in  one 

[ay  murdered  five  of  the  Englishmen,  including  Christian. 

idams  and  Young  were  spared  at  the  intercession  of  their 

rives,  and  the  remaining  two,  M'Koy  and  Quintal  (two 
desperate  ruffians),  escaped  to  the  mountains,  whence, 
however,  they  soon  rejoined  their  companions.  'But  the 

irther  career  of  these  two  villains  was  short.  M'Koy, 
having  been  bred  up  in  a  Scottish  distillery,  succeeded  in 
extracting  a  bottle  of  ardent  spirits  from  the  tee  root; 
from  which  time  he  and  Quintal  were  never  sober,  until 


126  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

the  former  became  delirious,  and  committed  suicide  by 
jumping  over  a  cliff.  Quintal  being  likewise  almost  in- 
sane with  drinking,  made  repeated  attempts  to  murder 
Adams  and  Young,  until  they  were  absolutely  compelled, 
for  their  own  safety,  to  put  him  to  death,  which  they  did 
by  felling  him  with  a  hatchet. 

Adams  and  Young  were  at  length  the  only  surviving 
males  who  had  landed  on  the  island,  and  being  both  of 
a  serious  turn  of  mind,  and  having  time  for  reflection  and 
repentance,  they  became  extremely  devout.  Having 
saved  a  Bible  and  prayer-book  from  the  Bounty,  they 
now  performed  family  worship  morning  and  evening,  and 
addressed  themselves  to  training  up  their  own  children 
and  those  of  their  unfortunate  companions  in  piety  and 
virtue.  Young,  however,  was  soon  carried  off  by  an  asth- 
matic complaint,  and  Adams  was  thus  left  to  continue  his 
pious  labors  alone.  At  the  time  Captains  Staines  and  Pi- 
pon  visited  the  island,  this  interesting  little  colony  con- 
sisted of  about  forty-six  persons,  mostly  grown-up  young 
people,  all  living  in  harmony  and  happiness  together ;  and 
not  only  professing,  but  fully  understanding  and  practic- 
ing, the  precepts  and  principles  of  the  Christian  religion. 
Adams  had  instituted  the  ceremony  of  marriage,  and  he 
assured  his  visitors  that  not  one  instance  of  debauchery 
and  immoral  conduct  had  occurred  amongst  them. 

The  visitors  having  supplied  these  interesting  people  with 
some  tools,  kettles,  and  other  articles,  took  their  leave. 
The  account  which  they  transmitted  home  of  this  newly- 
discovered  colony  was,  strange  to  say,  as  little  attended 
to  by  government  as  that  of  Captain  Folger,  and  nothing 
more  was  heard  of  Adams  and  his  family  for  nearly 
twelve  years,  when,  in  1825,  Captain  Beechey,  in  the  Blos- 
som, bound  on  a  voyage  of  discovery  to  Behring  Strait, 
touched  at  Pitcairn's  Island.  On  the  approach  of  the 
Blossom,  a  boat  came  off  under  all  sail  towards  the  ship, 


THE  MUTINY  OF  THE  BOUNTY       127 

containing  old  Adams  and  ten  of  the  young  men  of  the  is- 
land. After  requesting  and  obtaining  leave  to  come  on 
board,  the  young  men  sprung  up  the  side,  and  shook  every 
officer  cordially  by  the  hand.  Adams,  who  was  grown 
very  corpulent,  followed  more  leisurely.  He  was  dressed 
in  a  sailor's  shirt  and  trousers,  with  a  low-crowned  hat, 
which  he  held  in  his  hand  in  sailor  fashion,  while  he 
smoothed  down  his  bald  forehead  when  addressed  by  the 
officers  of  the  Blossom.  The  little  colony  had  now  in- 
creased to  about  sixty-six,  including  an  English  sailor  of 
the  name  of  John  Buffett,  who,  at  his  own  earnest  desire, 
had  been  left  by  a  whaler.  In  this  man  the  society  luck- 
ily found  an  able  and  willing  schoolmaster.  He  instructed 
the  children  in  reading,  writing,  and  arithmetic,  and  de- 
voutly co-operated  with  old  Adams  in  affording  religious 
instruction  to  the  community.  The  officers  of  the  Blos- 
som went  ashore,  and  were  entertained  with  a  sumptuous 
repast  at  young  Christian's,  the  table  being  spread  with 
plates,  knives  and  forks.  Buffett  said  grace  in  an  em- 
phatic manner ;  and  so  strict  were  they  in  this  respect,  that 
it  was  not  deemed  proper  to  touch  a  morsel  of  bread  with- 
out saying  grace  both  before  and  after  it.  The  officers 
slept  in  the  house  all  night,  their  bedclothing  and  sheets 
consisting  of  the  native  cloth  made  of  the  native  mulberry- 
tree.  The  only  interruption  to  their  repose  was  the  melody 
of  the  evening  hymn,  which  was  chanted  together  by 
the  whole  family  after  the  lights  were  put  out;  and  they 
were  awakened  at  early  dawn  by  the  same  devotional 
ceremony.  On  Sabbath  the  utmost  decorum  was  at- 
tended to,  and  the  day  was  passed  in  regular  religious  ob- 
servances. 

In  consequence  of  a  representation  made  by  Captain 
Beechey,  the  British  government  sent  out  Captain  Walde- 
grave  in  1830,  in  the  Seringapatam,  with  a  supply  of  sail- 
ors' blue  jackets  and  trousers,  flannels,  stockings  and 


128  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

shoes,  women's  dresses,  spades,  mattocks,  shovels,  pick- 
axes, trowels,  rakes,  etc.  He  found  their  community  in- 
creased to  about  seventy-nine,  all  exhibiting  the  same  un- 
sophisticated and  amiable  characteristics  as  we  have  before 
described.  Other  two  Englishmen  had  settled  amongst 
them;  one  of  them,  called  Nobbs,  a  low-bred,  illiterate 
man,  a  self-constituted  missionary,  who  was  endeavoring 
to  supersede  Buffett  in  his  office  of  religious  instruction. 
The  patriarch  Adams,  it  was  found,  had  died  in  March, 
1829,  aged  sixty-five.  While  on  his  deathbed,  he  had 
called  the  heads  of  families  together,  and  urged  upon 
them  to  elect  a  chief;  which,  however,  they  had  not  yet 
done;  but  the  greatest  harmony  still  prevailed  amongst 
them,  notwithstanding  Nobb's  exertions  to  form  a  party 
of  his  own.  Captain  Waldegrave  thought  that  the  is- 
land, which  is  about  four  miles  square,  might  be  able  to 
support  a  thousand  persons,  upon  reaching  which  number 
they  would  naturally  emigrate  to  other  islands. 

Such  is  the  account  of  this  most  singular  colony,  origin- 
ating in  crime  and  bloodshed.  Of  all  the  repentant  crim- 
inals on  record,  the  most  interesting,  perhaps,  is  John 
Adams;  nor  do  we  know  where  to  find  a  more  beautiful 
example  of  the  value  of  early  instruction  than  in  the  his- 
tory of  this  man,  who,  having  run  the  full  career  of 
nearly  all  kinds  of  vice,  was  checked  by  an  interval  of  lei- 
surely reflection,  and  the  sense  of  new  duties  awakened  by 
the  power  of  natural  affections. 


THE  WRECK  OF  THE  ROYAL  CAROLINE 

From  "The  Red  Rover,"  BY  JAMES  FENNIMORE  COOPER 

OUR  watchful  adventurer  captain  was  not  blind  to 
these  sinister  omens.  No  sooner  did  the  peculiar  at- 
mosphere by  which  the  mysterious  image  that  he 
so  often  examined  was  suddenly  surrounded,  catch  his 
eye,  than  his  voice  was  raised  in  the  clear,  powerful,  and 
exciting  notes  of  warning. 

"  Stand  by,"  he  called  aloud,  "  to  in-all-studding-sails ! 
Down  with  them !  "  he  added,  scarcely  giving  his  former 
words  time  to  reach  the  ears  of  his  subordinates.  "Down 
with  every  rag  of  them,  fore  and  aft  the  ship !  Man  the 
top-gallant  clew-lines,  Mr.  Earing.  Clew  up,  and  clew 
down !  In  with  every  thing,  cheerily,  men !  —  In !  " 

This  was  a  language  to  which  the  crew  of  the  Caroline 
were  no  strangers,  and  it  was  doubly  welcome,  since  the 
meanest  seaman  amongst  them  had  long  thought  that  his 
unknown  commander  had  been  heedlessly  trifling  with  the 
safety  of  the  vessel,  by  the  hardy  manner  in  which  he  dis- 
regarded the  wild  symptoms  of  the  weather.  But  they 
undervalued  the  keen-eyed  vigilance  of  Wilder.  He  had 
certainly  driven  the  Bristol  trader  through  the  water 
at  a  rate  she  had  never  been  known  to  go  before;  but, 
thus  far,  the  facts  themselves  gave  evidence  in  his  favour, 
since  no  injury  was  the  consequence  of  what  they  deemed 
temerity.  At  the  quick  sudden  order  just  given,  however, 
the  whole  ship  was  in  an  uproar.  A  dozen  seamen  called 
to  each  other,  from  different  parts  of  the  vessel,  each 
striving  to  lift  his  voice  above  the  roaring  ocean;  and 
there  was  every  appearance  of  a  general  and  inextricable 
confusion;  but  the  same  authority  which  had  so  un- 

129 


130  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

cxpectedly  aroused  them  into  activity,  produced  order 
from  their  ill-directed  though  vigorous  efforts. 

Wilder  had  spoken,  to  awaken  the  drowsy  and  to  excite 
the  torpid.  The  instant  he  found  each  man  on  the  alert,  he 
resumed  his  orders  with  a  calmness  that  gave  a  direction 
to  the  powers  of  all,  and  yet  with  an  energy  that  he  well 
knew  was  called  for  by  the  occasion.  The  enormous 
sheets  of  duck,  which  had  looked  like  so  many  light  clouds 
in  the  murky  and  threatening  heavens,  were  soon  seen 
fluttering  wildly,  as  they  descended  from  their  high  places, 
and,  in  a  few  minutes,  the  ship  was  reduced  to  the  action 
of  her  more  secure  and  heavier  canvas.  To  effect  this 
object,  every  man  in  the  ship  exerted  his  powers  to  the 
utmost,  under  the  guidance  of  the  steady  but  rapid  man- 
dates of  their  commander.  Then  followed  a  short  and 
apprehensive  pause.  All  eyes  were  turned  towards  the 
quarter  where  the  ominous  signs  had  been  discovered; 
and  each  individual  endeavored  to  read  their  import,  with 
an  intelligence  correspondent  to  the  degree  of  skill  he 
might  have  acquired,  during  his  particular  period  of  serv- 
ice on  that  treacherous  element  which  was  now  his  home. 

The  dim  tracery  of  the  stranger's  form  had  been  swal- 
lowed by  the  flood  of  misty  light,  which,  by  this  time, 
rolled  along  the  sea  like  drifting  vapour,  semi-pellucid, 
preternatural,  and  seemingly  tangible.  The  ocean  itself 
appeared  admonished  that  a  quick  and  violent  change  was 
nigh.  The  waves  ceased  to  break  in  their  former  foam- 
ing and  brilliant  crests,  and  black  masses  of  the  water 
lifted  their  surly  summits  against  the  eastern  horizon,  no 
longer  shedding  their  own  peculiar  and  lucid  atmosphere 
around  them.  The  breeze  which  had  been  so  fresh,  and 
which  had  even  blown  with  a  force  that  nearly  amounted 
to  a  gale,  was  lulling  and  becoming  uncertain,  as  it  might 
be  awed  by  the  more  violent  power  that  was  gathering 
along  the  borders  of  the  sea,  in  the  direction  of  the  neigh- 


WRECK  OF  THE  ROYAL  CAROLINE     131 

bouring  continent.  Each  moment,  the  eastern  puffs  of  air 
lost  their  strength,  becoming  more  and  more  feeble,  until, 
in  an  incredibly  short  period,  the  heavy  sails  were  heard 
flapping  against  the  masts.  A  frightful  and  ominous  calm 
succeeded.  At  this  instant,  a  gleam  flashed  from  the  fear- 
ful obscurity  of  the  ocean,  and  a  roar,  like  that  of  a 
sudden  burst  of  thunder,  bellowed  along  the  waters.  The 
seamen  turned  their  startled  looks  on  each  other,  stand- 
ing aghast,  as  if  a  warning  of  what  was  to  follow  had 
come  out  of  the  heavens  themselves.  But  their  calm  and 
more  sagacious  commander  put  a  different  construction 
on  the  signal.  His  lip  curled,  in  high  professional  pride, 
and  he  muttered  with  scorn, — 

"  Does  he  imagine  that  we  sleep?  Ay,  he  has  got  it 
himself,  and  would  open  our  eyes  to  what  is  coming? 
What  does  he  conjecture  we  have  been  about,  since  the 
middle  watch  was  set?  " 

Wilder  made  a  swift  turn  or  two  on  the  quarter-deck, 
turning  his  quick  glances  from  one  quarter  of  the  heavens 
to  another;  from  the  black  and  lulling  water  on  which 
his  vessel  was  rolling,  to  the  sails;  and  from  his  silent 
and  profoundly  expectant  crew,  to  the  dim  lines  of  spars 
that  were  waving  above  his  head,  like  so  many  pencils 
tracing  their  curvilinear  and  wanton  images  over  the 
murky  volumes  of  the  superincumbent  clouds. 

"  Lay  the  after-yards  square !  "  he  said,  in  a  voice  which 
was  heard  by  every  man  on  deck,  though  his  words  were 
apparently  spoken  but  little  above  his  breath.  The 
creaking  of  the  blocks,  as  the  spars  came  slowly  and  heav- 
ily round  to  the  indicated  position,  contributed  to  the 
imposing  character  of  the  moment,  sounding  like  notes 
of  fearful  preparation. 

"  Haul  up  the  courses !  "  resumed  Wilder  with  the  same 
eloquent  calmness  of  manner.  Then,  taking  another 
glance  at  the  threatening  horizon,  he  added  slowly  but 


132  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

with  emphasis,  "  Furl  them — furl  them  both.  Away 
aloft,  and  hand  your  courses!"  he  continued  in  a  shout; 
"roll  them  up,  cheerily;  in  with  them,  boys,  cheerily;  in!" 

The  conscious  seamen  took  their  impulses  from  the 
tones  of  their  commander.  In  a  moment,  twenty  dark 
forms  were  leaping  up  the  rigging,  with  the  alacrity  of  so 
many  quadrupeds.  In  another  minute,  the  vast  and  pow- 
erful sheets  of  canvas  were  effectually  rendered  harmless, 
by  securing  them  in  tight  rolls  to  their  respective  spars. 
The  men  descended  as  swiftly  as  they  had  mounted  to 
the  yards;  and  then  succeeded  another  breathing  pause. 
At  this  appalling  moment,  a  candle  would  have  sent  its 
flame  perpendicularly  towards  the  heavens.  The  ship, 
missing  the  steadying  power  of  the  wind,  rolled  heavily  in 
the  troughs  of  the  seas,  which  began  to  lessen  at  each 
instant,  as  if  the  startled  element  was  recalling  into  the 
security  of  its  own  vast  bosom  that  portion  of  its  particles 
which  had  so  lately  been  permitted  to  gambol  madly 
over  its  surface.  The  water  washed  sullenly  along  the 
side  of  the  ship,  or,  as  she  labouring  rose  from  one  of 
her  frequent  falls  into  the  hollows  of  the  waves,  it  shot 
back  into  the  ocean  from  her  decks  in  glittering  cascades. 
Every  hue  of  the  heavens,  every  sound  of  the  element, 
and  each  dusky  and  anxious  countenance,  helped  to  pro- 
claim the  intense  interest  of  the  moment.  In  this  brief 
interval  of  expectation  and  inactivity,  the  mates  again 
approached  their  commander. 

"  It  is  an  awful  night,  Captain  Wilder!  "  said  Earing, 
presuming  on  his  rank  to  be  the  first  to  speak. 

"  I  have  known  far  less  notice  given  of  a  shift  of  wind," 
was  the  answer. 

"  We  have  had  time  to  gather  in  our  kites,  'tis  true, 
sir;  but  there  are  signs  and  warnings  that  come  with  this 
change  which  the  oldest  seaman  must  dread!  " 

"  Yes,"  continued  Knighthead,  in  a  voice  that'  sounded 


WRECK  OF  THE  ROYAL  CAROLINE     133 

hoarse  and  powerful,  even  amid  the  fearful  accessories  of 
that  scene;  "yes,  it  is  no  trifling  commission  that  can 
call  people  that  I  shall  not  name  out  upon  the  water  in 
such  a  night  as  this.  It  was  in  just  such  weather  that  I 
saw  the  Vesuvius  ketch  go  to  a  place  so  deep,  that  her 
own  mortar  would  not  have  been  able  to  have  sent  a 
bomb  into  the  open  air,  had  hands  and  fire  been  there  fit 
to  let  it  off !  " 

"Ay;  and  it  was  in  such  a  time  that  the  Greenlandman 
was  cast  upon  the  Orkneys,  in  as  flat  a  calm  as  ever  lay 
on  the  sea." 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  Wilder,  with  a  peculiar  and  per- 
haps an  ironical  emphasis  on  the  word,  "  what  would  ye 
have?  There  is  not  a  breath  of  air  stirring  and  the  ship 
is  naked  to  her  topsails !  " 

It  would  have  been  difficult  for  either  of  the  two  mal- 
contents to  give  a  very  satisfactory  answer  to  this  ques- 
tion. Both  were  secretly  goaded  by  mysterious  and 
superstitious  apprehensions,  that  were  powerfully  aided 
by  the  more  real  and  intelligible  aspect  of  the  night; 
but  neither  had  so  far  forgotten  his  manhood,  and  his 
professional  pride,  as  to  lay  bare  the  full  extent  of  his 
own  weakness,  at  a  moment  when  he  was  liable  to  be 
called  upon  for  the  exhibition  of  qualities  of  a  more  posi- 
tive and  determined  character.  The  feeling  that  was 
uppermost  betrayed  itself  in  the  reply  of  Earing,  though 
in  an  indirect  and  covert  manner. 

"Yes,  the  vessel  is  snug  enough  now,"  he  said,  "though 
eyesight  has  shown  us  it  is  no  easy  matter  to  drive  a 
freighted  ship  through  the  water  as  fast  as  one  of  those 
flying  craft  aboard  which  no  man  can  say  who  stands 
at  the  helm,  by  what  compass  she  steers,  or  what  is  her 
draught !  " 

u  Ay,"  resumed  Knighthead,  "I  call  the  Caroline  fast 
for  an  honest  trader.  There  are  few  square-rigged  boats 


134  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

who  do  not  wear  the  pennants  of  the  king,  that  can  eat 
her  out  of  the  wind  on  a  bowline,  or  bring  her  into  their 
wake  with  studding-sails  set.  But  this  is  a  time  and  an 
hour  to  make  a  seaman  think.  Look  at  yon  hazy  light, 
here  in  with  the  land,  that  is  coming  so  fast  down  upon 
us,  and  then  tell  me  whether  it  comes  from  the  coast  of 
America,  or  whether  it  comes  from  out  of  the  stranger 
who  has  been  so  long  running  under  our  lee,  but  who  has 
got,  or  is  fast  getting,  the  wind  of  us  at  last,  while  none 
here  can  say  how,  or  why.  I  have  just  this  much,  and 
no  more,  to  say :  give  me  for  consort  a  craft  whose  cap- 
tain I  know,  or  give  me  none !  " 

"  Such  is  your  taste,  Mr.  Knighthead,"  said  Wilder, 
coldly;  "mine  may,  by  some  accident,  be  different." 

*  Yes,  yes,"  observed  the  more  cautious  and  prudent 
Earing,  "  in  time  of  war,  and  with  letters  of  marque 
aboard,  a  man  may  honestly  hope  the  sail  he  sees  should 
have  a  stranger  for  her  master;  or  otherwise  he  would 
never  fall  in  with  an  enemy.  But,  though  an  Englishman 
born  myself,  I  should  rather  give  the  ship  in  that  mist  a 
clear  sea,  seeing  that  I  neither  know  her  nation  nor  her 
cruise.  Ah,  Captain  Wilder,  this  is  an  awful  sight  for 
the  morning  watch!  Often  and  often  have  I  seen  the 
sun  rise  in  the  east,  and  no  harm  done;  but  little  good 
can  come  of  a  day  when  the  light  first  breaks  in  the  west. 
Cheerfully  would  I  give  the  owners  the  last  month's  pay, 
hard  as  it  has  been  earned,  did  I  but  know  under  what  flag 
the  stranger  sails." 

"Frenchman,  Don,  or  Devil,  yonder  he  comes!  "  cries 
Wilder.  Then,  turning  towards  the  attentive  crew,  he 
shouted,  in  a  voice  that  was  appalling  by  its  vehemence 
and  warning,  "  Let  run  the  after-halyards !  round  with 
the  fore-yard;  round  with  it,  men,  with  a  will!  " 

These  were  cries  that  the  startled  crew  but  too  well  un- 
derstood. Every  nerve  and  muscle  were  exerted  to  exe- 


WRECK  OF  THE  ROYAL  CAROLINE     135 

cute  the  orders,  to  be  in  readiness  for  the  tempest.  No 
man  spoke;  but  each  expended  the  utmost  of  his  power 
and  skill  in  direct  and  manly  efforts.  Nor  was  there,  in 
verity,  a  moment  to  lose,  or  a  particle  of  human  strength 
expended  here,  without  a  sufficient  object. 

The  lurid  and  fearful-looking  mist,  which,  for  the  last 
quarter  of  an  hour,  had  been  gathering  in  the  north-west, 
was  driving  down  upon  them  with  the  speed  of  a  race- 
horse. The  air  had  already  lost  the  damp  and  peculiar 
feeling  of  an  easterly  breeze;  and  little  eddies  were  be- 
ginning to  flutter,  among  the  masts — precursors  of  the 
coming  squall.  Then,  a  rushing,  roaring  sound  was  heard 
moaning  along  the  ocean,  whose  surface  was  first  dim- 
pled, next  ruffled,  and  finally  covered  with  a  sheet  of 
clear,  white,  and  spotless  foam.  At  the  next  moment, 
the  power  of  the  wind  fell  upon  the  inert  and  labouring 
Bristol  trader. 

While  the  gust  was  approaching,  Wilder  had  seized 
the  slight  opportunity  afforded  by  the  changeful  puffs  of 
air  to  get  the  ship  as  much  as  possible  before  the  wind; 
but  the  sluggish  movement  of  the  vessel  met  neither  the 
wishes  of  his  own  impatience  nor  the  exigencies  of  the 
moment.  Her  bows  slowly  and  heavily  fell  off  from  the 
north,  leaving  her  precisely  in  a  situation  to  receive  the 
first  shock  on  her  broadside.  Happy  it  was,  for  all  who 
had  life  at  risk  in  that  defenceless  vessel,  that  she  was 
not  fated  to  receive  the  whole  weight  of  the  tempest  at 
a  blow.  The  sails  fluttered  and  trembled  on  their  massive 
yards,  bellying  and  collapsing  alternately  for  a  minute, 
and  then  the  rushing  wind  swept  over  them  in  a  hurricane. 

The  Caroline  received  the  blast  like  a  stout  and  buoy- 
ant ship  as  she  was,  yielding  to  its  impulse  until  her  side 
lay  nearly  incumbent  on  the  element;  and  then,  as  if  the 
fearful  fabric  were  conscious  of  its  jeopardy,  it  seemed 


136  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

to  lift  its  reclining  masts  again,  struggling  to  work  its 
way  through  the  water. 

"Keep  the  helm  a-weather!  Jam  it  a-weather,  for 
your  life !"  shouted  Wilder,  amid  the  roar  of  the  gust. 

The  veteran  seaman  at  the  wheel  obeyed  the  order 
with  steadiness,  but  in  vain  did  he  keep  his  eyes  on  the 
margin  of  his  head  sail,  to  watch  the  manner  in  which  the 
ship  would  obey  its  power.  Twice  more,  in  as  many 
moments,  the  giddy  masts  fell  towards  the  horizon,  wav- 
ing as  often  gracefully  upward,  and  then  they  yielded  to 
the  mighty  pressure  of  the  wind,  until  the  whole  ma- 
chine lay  prostrate  on  the  water. 

"  Be  cool !  "  said  Wilder,  seizing  the  bewildered  Earing 
by  the  arm,  as  the  latter  rushed  madly  up  the  steep  of 
the  deck;  "it  is  our  duty  to  be  calm;  bring  hither  an 


axe." 


Quick  as  the  thought  which  gave  the  order,  the  ad- 
monished mate  complied,  jumping  into  the  mizzen-chan- 
nels  of  the  ship,  to  execute  with  his  own  hands  the  man- 
date that  he  knew  must  follow. 

"  Shall  I  cut?"  he  demanded,  with  uplifted  arms,  and 
in  a  voice  that  atoned  for  his  momentary  confusion,  by 
its  steadiness  and  force. 

"  Hold!  —  Does  the  ship  mind  her  helm  at  all?" 

"  Not  an  inch,  sir." 

"  Then  cut,"  Wilder  clearly  and  calmly  added. 

A  single  blow  sufficed  for  the  discharge  of  this  im- 
portant duty.  Extended  to  the  utmost  powers  of  endur- 
ance, by  the  vast  weight  it  upheld,  the  lanyard  struck 
by  Earing  no  sooner  parted,  than  each  of  its  fellows 
snapped  in  succession,  leaving  the  mast  dependent  on  its 
wood  for  the  support  of  all  the  ponderous  and  compli- 
cated hamper  it  upheld.  The  cracking  of  the  spar  came 
next;  and  the  whole  fell,  like  a  tree  that  had  been 
snapped  at  its  foundation. 


WRECK  OF  THE  ROYAL  CAROLINE     137 

"  Does  she  fall  off  ?"  called  Wilder,  to  the  observant 
seaman  at  the  wheel. 

"  She  yielded  a  little,  sir ;  but  this  new  squall  is  bringing 
her  up  again." 

"  Shall  I  cut?"  shouted  Earing  from  the  main-rigging, 
whither  he  had  leaped,  like  a  tiger  who  had  bounded  on 
his  prey. 

"  Cut." 

A  louder  and  more  imposing  crash  succeeded  this  or- 
der, though  not  before  several  heavy  blows  had  been 
struck  into  the  massive  mast  itself.  As  before,  the  sea 
received  the  tumbling  maze  of  spars,  rigging,  and  sails; 
the  vessel  surging  at  the  same  instant,  from  its  recum- 
bent position,  and  rolling  far  and  heavily  to  windward. 

"  She  rights !  she  rights !"  exclaimed  twenty  voices 
which  had  been  mute,  in  a  suspense  that  involved  life  and 
death. 

"  Keep  her  dead  away!"  added  the  calm  but  authorita- 
tive voice  of  the  young  commander.  "  Stand  by  to  furl 
the  fore-top-sail  —  let  it  hang  a  moment  to  drag  the  ship 
clear  of  the  wreck  —  cut,  cut  —  cheerily,  men  —  hatchets 
and  knives  —  cut  with  all,  and  cut  of  all !" 

As  the  men  now  worked  with  the  vigour  of  hope,  the 
ropes  that  still  confined  the  fallen  spars  to  the  vessel  were 
quickly  severed;  and  the  Caroline,  by  this  time  dead 
before  the  gale,  appeared  barely  to  touch  the  foam  that 
covered  the  sea.  The  wind  came  over  the  waste  in  gusts 
that  rumbled  like  distant  thunder,  and  with  a  power  that 
seemed  to  threaten  to  lift  the  ship  from  its  proper  ele- 
ment. As  a  prudent  and  sagacious  seaman  had  let  fly 
the  halyards,  of  the  solitary  sail  that  remained,  at  the  mo- 
ment the  squall  approached,  the  loosened  but  lowered 
topsail  was  now  distended  in  a  manner  that  threatened 
to  drag  after  it  the  only  mast  which  still  stood.  Wilder 


138  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

saw  the  necessity  of  getting  rid  of  the  sail,  and  he  also 
saw  the  utter  impossibility  of  securing  it.  Calling  Earing 
to  his  side,  he  pointed  out  the  danger,  and  gave  the  neces- 
sary order. 

"  The  spar  cannot  stand  such  shocks  much  longer," 
he  concluded;  "  should  it  go  over  the  bows,  some  fatal 
blow  might  be  given  to  the  ship  at  the  rate  she  is  moving. 
A  man  or  two  must  be  sent  aloft  to  cut  the  sail  from  the 
yards." 

"  The  stick  is  bending  like  a  willow  whip,"  returned 
the  mate,  "  and  the  lower  mast  itself  is  sprung.  There 
would  be  great  danger  in  trusting  a  hand  in  that  top, 
while  these  wild  squalls  are  breathing  around  us." 

"  You  may  be  right,"  returned  Wilder,  with  a  sudden 
conviction  of  the  truth  of  what  the  other  had  said.  "  Stay 
you  then  here;  if  any  thing  befall  me,  try  to  get  the 
vessel  into  port  as  far  north  as  the  Capes  of  Virginia,  at 
least; — on  no  account  attempt  Hatteras,  in  the  present 
condition  of " 

"What  would  you  do,  Captain  Wilder?"  interrupted 
the  mate,  laying  his  hand  on  the  shoulder  of  his  com- 
mander, who  had  already  thrown  his  sea-cap  on  the  deck, 
and  was  preparing  to  divest  himself  of  some  of  his  outer 
garments. 

"  I  go  aloft  to  ease  the  mast  of  that  topsail,  without 
which  we  lose  the  spar,  and  possibly  the  ship." 

"I  see  that  plain  enough;  but,  shall  it  be  said  that 
another  did  the  duty  of  Edward  Earing?  It  is  your 
business  to  carry  the  vessel  into  the  Capes  of  Virginia, 
and  mine  to  cut  the  topsail  adrift.  If  harm  comes  to  me, 
why,  put  it  in  the  log,  with  a  word  or  two  about  the  man- 
ner in  which  I  played  my  part.  That  is  the  most  proper 
epitaph  for  a  sailor." 

Wilder  made  no  resistance.  He  resumed  his  watchful 
and  reflecting  attitude,  with  the  simplicity  of  one  who 


WRECK  OF  THE  ROYAL  CAROLINE     139 

had  been  too  long  trained  to  the  discharge  of  certain 
obligations  himself,  to  manifest  surprise  that  another 
should  acknowledge  their  imperative  character.  In  the 
mean  time,  Earing  proceeded  steadily  to  perform  what 
he  had  just  promised.  Passing  into  the  waist  of  the 
ship,  he  provided  himself  with  a  suitable  hatchet,  and 
then,  without  speaking  a  syllable  to  any  of  the  mute  but 
attentive  seamen,  he  sprang  into  the  fore-rigging,  every 
strand  and  rope-yarn  of  which  was  tightened  by  the 
strain  nearly  to  snapping.  The  understanding  eyes  of 
his  observers  comprehended  his  intention;  and  with  pre- 
cisely the  same  pride  of  station  as  had  urged  him  to  the 
dangerous  undertaking  four  or  five  of  the  oldest  mariners 
jumped  upon  the  rattlings,  to  mount  into  an  air  that  ap- 
parently teemed  with  a  hundred  hurricanes. 

"  Lie  down  out  of  that  fore-rigging,"  shouted  Wilder, 
through  a  deck  trumpet;  "lie  down;  all,  but  the  mate, 
lie  down!"  His  words  were  borne  past  the  inattentive 
ears  of  the  excited  and  mortified  followers  of  Earing, 
but  for  once  they  failed  of  their  effect.  Each  man  was 
too  earnestly  bent  on  his  purpose  to  listen  to  the  sounds 
of  recall.  In  less  than  a  minute,  the  whole  were  scat- 
tered along  the  yards,  prepared  to  obey  the  signal  of 
their  officer.  The  mate  cast  a  look  about  him;  perceiv- 
ing that  the  time  was  comparatively  favorable,  he  struck 
a  blow  upon  the  large  rope  that  confined  one  of  the 
lower  angles  of  the  distended  and  bursting  sail  to  the 
yard.  The  effect  was  much  the  same  as  would  be  pro- 
duced by  knocking  away  the  key-stone  of  an  ill-cemented 
arch.  The  canvas  broke  from  its  fastenings  with  a  loud 
explosion,  and,  for  an  instant,  it  was  seen  sailing  in  the 
air  ahead  of  the  ship,  as  if  it  were  sustained  on  wings. 
The  vessel  rose  on  a  sluggish  wave  —  the  lingering  re- 
mains of  the  former  breeze  —  and  settled  heavily  over 
the  rolling  surge,  borne  down  alike  by  its  own  weight 


140  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

and  the  renewed  violence  of  the  gusts.  At  this  critical 
instant,  while  the  seamen  aloft  were  still  gazing  in  the 
direction  in  which  the  little  cloud  of  canvas  had  disap- 
peared, a  lanyard  of  the  lower  rigging  parted,  with  a 
crack  that  reached  the  ears  of  Wilder. 

"  Lie  down!"  he  shouted  wildly  through  his  trumpet; 
"  down  by  the  backstays;  down  for  your  lives;  every 
man  of  you,  down !" 

A  solitary  individual  profited  by  the  warning  gliding 
to  the  deck  with  the  velocity  of  the  wind.  But  rope  parted 
after  rope,  and  the  fatal  snapping  of  the  wood  followed. 
For  a  moment,  the  towering  maze  tottered,  seeming  to 
wave  towards  every  quarter  of  the  heavens;  and  then, 
yielding  to  the  movements  of  the  hull,  the  whole  fell,  with 
a  heavy  crash,  into  the  sea.  Cord,  lanyard,  and  stay 
snapped  like  thread,  as  each  received  in  succession  the 
strain  of  the  ship,  leaving  the  naked  and  despoiled  hull 
of  the  Caroline  to  drive  before  the  tempest,  as  if  nothing 
had  occurred  to  impede  its  progress. 

A  mute  and  eloquent  pause  succeeded  the  disaster.  It 
seemed  as  if  the  elements  themselves  were  appeased  by 
their  work,  and  something  like  a  momentary  lull  in  the 
awful  rushing  of  the  winds  might  have  been  fancied. 
Wilder  sprang  to  the  side  of  the  vessel,  and  distinctly 
beheld  the  victims,  who  still  clung  to  their  frail  support. 
He  even  saw  Earing  waving  his  hand  in  adieu  with  a 
seaman's  heart,  like  a  man  who  not  only  felt  how  des- 
perate was  his  situation,  but  who  knew  how  to  meet  it 
with  resignation.  Then  the  wreck  of  spars,  with  all  who 
clung  to  it,  was  swallowed  up  in  the  body  of  the  frightful, 
preternatural-looking  mist  which  extended  on  every  side 
of  them,  from  the  ocean  to  the  clouds. 

"  Stand  by,  to  clear  away  a  boat  I"  shouted  Wilder, 
without  pausing  to  think  of  the  impossibility  of  one's 


WRECK  OF  THE  ROYAL  CAROLINE    141 

swimming,  or  of  effecting  the  least  good,  in  so  violent  a 
tornado. 

But  the  amazed  and  confounded  seamen  who  re- 
mained needed  no  instruction  in  this  matter.  Not  a  man 
moved,  nor  was  the  smallest  symptom  of  obedience 
given.  The  mariners  looked  wildly  around  them,  each 
endeavouring  to  trace  in  the  dusky  countenance  of  some 
shipmate  his  opinion  of  the  extent  of  the  evil;  but  not 
a  mouth  opened  among  them  all. 

"It  is  too  late  —  it  is  too  late!"  murmured  Wilder; 
"  human  skill  and  human  efforts  could  not  save  them!" 

"  Sail,  ho !"  Knighthead  shouted  in  a  voice  that  was 
teeming  with  superstitious  awe. 

"  Let  him  come  on,"  returned  his  young  commander, 
bitterly;  "the  mischief  is  ready  done  to  his  hands!" 

"  Should  this  be  a  true  ship,  it  is  our  duty  to  the  owners 
and  the  passengers  to  speak  her,  if  a  man  can  make  his 
voice  heard  in  this  tempest,"  the  second  mate  continued, 
pointing,  through  the  haze,  at  the  dim  object  that  was 
certainly  at  hand. 

"  Speak  her !  —  passengers !"  muttered  Wilder,  in- 
voluntarily repeating  his  words.  "No;  any  thing  is 
better  than  speaking  her.  Do  you  see  the  vessel  that 
is  driving  down  upon  us  so  fast?"  he  sternly  demanded  of 
the  watchful  seaman  who  still  clung  to  the  wheel  of  the 
Caroline. 

"Ay,  ay,  sir." 

"  Give  her  a  berth  —  sheer  away  hard  to  port  — 
perhaps  he  may  pass  us  in  the  gloom,  now  we  are  no 
higher  than  our  decks.  Give  the  ship  a  broad  sheer, 
I  say,  sir." 

The  usual  laconic  answer  was  given;  and,  for  a  few 
moments,  the  Bristol  trader  was  seen  diverging  a  little 
from  the  line  in  which  the  other  approached;  but  a  second 
glance  assured  Wilder  that  the  attempt  was  useless.  The 


142  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

strange  ship  (every  man  on  board  felt  certain  it  was  the 
same  that  had  so  long  been  seen  hanging  in  the  north- 
western horizon)  came  on  through  the  mist,  with  a  swift- 
ness that  nearly  equalled  the  velocity  of  the  tempestuous 
winds  themselves.  Not  a  thread  of  canvas  was  seen 
on  board  her.  Each  line  of  spars,  even  to  the  tapering 
and  delicate  top-gallant  masts,  was  in  its  place,  preserving 
the  beauty  and  symmetry  of  the  whole  fabric;  but  no- 
where was  the  the  smallest  fragment  of  a  sail  opened  to 
the  gale.  Under  her  bows  rolled  a  volume  of  foam 
that  was  even  discernible  amid  the  universal  agitation 
of  the  ocean;  and,  as  she  came  within  sound,  the  sullen 
roar  of  the  water  might  have  been  likened  to  the  noise 
of  a  cascade.  At  first,  the  spectators  on  the  decks  of  the 
Caroline  believed  they  were  not  seen,  and  some  of  the 
men  called  madly  for  lights,  in  order  that  the  disasters 
of  the  night  might  not  terminate  in  an  encounter. 

"  Too  many  see  us  there  already!'1  said  Wilder. 

"No,  no,"  muttered  Knighthead;  "no  fear  but  we  are 
seen;  and  by  such  eyes,  too,  as  never  yet  looked  out  of 
mortal  head!" 

The  seamen  paused.  In  another  instant,  the  long- 
seen  and  mysterious  ship  was  within  a  hundred  feet  of 
them.  The  very  power  of  that  wind,  which  was  wont 
usually  to  raise  the  billows,  now  pressed  the  element,  with 
the  weight  of  mountains,  into  its  bed.  The  sea  was  every 
where  a  sheet  of  froth,  but  the  water  did  not  rise  above 
the  level  of  the  surface.  The  instant  a  wave  lifted  itself 
from  the  security  of  the  vast  depths,  the  fluid  was  borne 
away  before  the  tornado  in  glittering  spray.  Along  this 
frothy  but  comparatively  motionless  surface,  then,  the 
stranger  came  booming  with  the  steadiness  and  grandeur 
with  which  a  cloud  is  seen  sailing  in  the  hurricane.  No 
sign  of  life  was  discovered  about  her.  If  men  looked 
out  from  their  secret  places,  upon  the  straitened  and  dis- 


WRECK  OF  THE  ROYAL  CAROLINE    143 

comfited  wreck  of  the  Bristol  trader,  it  was  covertly,  and 
as  darkly  as  the  tempest  before  which  they  drove.  Wilder 
held  his  breath,  for  the  moment  the  stranger  was  nighest, 
in  the  very  excess  of  suspense,  but,  as  he  saw  no  signal 
of  recognition,  no  human  form,  nor  any  intention  to  ar- 
rest, if  possible,  the  furious  career  of  the  other,  a  smile 
gleamed  across  his  countenance,  and  his  lips  moved 
rapidly,  as  if  he  found  pleasure  in  being  abandoned  to  his 
distress.  The  stranger  drove  by,  like  a  dark  vision;  and, 
ere  another  minute,  her  form  was  beginning  to  grow  less 
distinct,  in  the  body  of  spray  to  leeward. 

"She  is  going  out  of  sight  in  the  mist!"  exclaimed 
Wilder,  when  he  drew  his  breath,  after  the  fearful  sus- 
pense of  the  few  last  moments. 

"  Ay,  in  mist  or  clouds,"  responded  Knighthead,  who 
low  kept  obstinately  at  his  elbow,  watching  with  the 
lost  jealous  distrust,  the  smallest  movement  of  his  un- 
lown  commander. 

"In  the  heavens,  or  in  the  sea,  I  care  not,  provided 
ic  be  gone." 

4<  Most  seamen  would  rejoice  to  see  a  strange  sail, 
From  the  hull  of  a  vessel  shaved  to  the  deck  like  this." 

u  Men  often  court  their  destruction,  from  ignorance 

>f  their  own  interests.    Let  him  drive  on,  say  I,  and  pray 

I!     He  goes  four  feet  to  our  one;    and  I  ask  no  better 

favour  than  that  this  hurricane  may  blow  until  the  sun 

shall  rise." 

Knighthead  started,  and  cast  an  oblique  glance,  which 
resembled  denunciation,  at  his  companion.  To  his  super- 
stitious mind,  there  was  profanity  in  thus  invoking  the 
tempest,  at  a  moment  when  the  winds  seemed  already  to 
be  pouring  out  their  utmost  wrath. 

"  This  is  a  heavy  squall,  I  will  allow,"  he  said,  "  and 
such  a  one  as  many  mariners  pass  whole  lives  without 


144  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

seeing;  but  he  knows  little  of  the  sea  who  thinks  there  is 
not  more  wind  where  this  comes  from." 

"  Let  it  blow!"  cried  the  other,  striking  his  hands  to- 
gether a  little  wildly;  "I  pray  for  wind!" 

All  the  doubts  of  Knighthead,  as  to  the  character  of 
the  young  stranger  who  had  so  unaccountably  got  posses- 
sion of  the  office  of  Nicholas  Nichols,  if  any  remained, 
were  now  removed.  He  walked  forward  among  the 
silent  and  thoughtful  crew,  with  the  air  of  a  man  whose 
opinion  was  settled.  Wilder,  however,  paid  no  atten- 
tion to  the  movements  of  his  subordinate,  but  continued 
pacing  the  deck  for  hours;  now  casting  his  eyes  at  the 
heavens,  and  now  sending  frequent  and  anxious  glances 
around  the  limited  horizon,  while  the  Royal  Caroline 
still  continued  drifting  before  the  wind,  a  shorn  and 
naked  wreck. 


THE  CAPTURE  OF  THE  GREAT  WHITE 
WHALE 

From  "Moby  Dick,"  BY  HERMAN  MELVILLE 

THAT  night,  in  the  mid-watch,  when  the  old  man  — 
as  his  wont  at  intervals  —  stepped  forth  from  the 
scuttle  in  which  he  leaned,  and  went  to  his  pivot- 
hole,  he  suddenly  thrust  out  his  face  fiercely,  snuffing 
up  the  sea  air  as  a  sagacious  ship's  dog  will,  in  drawing 
nigh  to  some  barbarous  isle.     He  declared  that  a  whale 
must  be  near.     Soon  that  peculiar  odor,  sometimes  to  a 
great  distance  given  forth  by  the  living  sperm  whale,  was 
palpable  to  all  the  watch;  nor  was  any  mariner  surprised 
when,  after  inspecting  the  compass,  and  then  the  dog- 
vane,  and  then  ascertaining  the  precise  bearing  of  the 
odor  as  nearly  as  possible,  Ahab  rapidly  ordered  the  ship's 
course  to  be  slightly  altered,  and  the  sail  to  be  shortened. 
The  acute  policy  dictating  these  movements  was  suffi- 
ciently vindicated  at  daybreak,  by  the  sight  of  a  long 
sleek  on  the  sea  directly  and  lengthwise  ahead,  smooth  as 
oil,  and  resembling  in  the  pleated  watery  wrinkles  border- 
ing it,  the  polished  metallic-like  marks  of  some  swift  tide- 
rip,  at  the  mouth  of  a  deep,  rapid  stream. 
"Man  the  mast-heads!     Call  all  hands!" 
Thundering  with  the  butts  of  three  clubbed  handspikes 
on  the  forecastle  deck,  Daggoo  roused  the  sleepers  with 
such  judgment  claps  that  they  seemed  to  exhale  from 
the  scuttle,  so  instantaneously  did  they  appear  with  their 
clothes  in  their  hands. 

145 


146  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

"What  d'ye  see?"  cried  Ahab,  flattening  his  face  to 
the  sky. 

"  Nothing,  nothing,  sir !"  was  the  sound  hailing  down 
in  reply. 

'  T'gallant  sails !  —  stunsails !  alow  and  aloft,  and  on 
both  sides!" 

All  sail  being  set,  he  now  cast  loose  the  life-line,  re- 
served for  swaying  him  to  the  main  royal-mast  head;  and 
in  a  few  moments  they  were  hoisting  him  thither,  when, 
while  but  two-thirds  of  the  way  aloft,  and  while  peering 
ahead  through  the  horizontal  vacancy  between  the  main- 
top-sail and  top-gallant-sail,  he  raised  a  gull-like  cry  in 
the  air,  "There  she  blows!  —  there  she  blows!  A  hump 
like  a  snow-hill !  It  is  Moby  Dick !" 

Fired  by  the  cry  which  seemed  simultaneously  taken 
up  by  the  three  look-outs,  the  men  on  deck  rushed  to  the 
rigging  to  behold  the  famous  whale  they  had  so  long 
been  pursuing.  Ahab  had  now  gained  his  final  perch, 
some  feet  above  the  other  look-outs,  Tashtego  standing 
just  beneath  him  on  the  cap  of  the  top-gallant-mast,  so 
that  the  Indian's  head  was  almost  on  a  level  with  Ahab's 
heel.  From  this  height  the  whale  was  now  seen  some 
mile  or  so  ahead,  at  every  roll  of  the  sea  revealing  his 
high  sparkling  hump,  and  regularly  jetting  his  silent  spout 
into  the  air.  To  the  credulous  mariners  it  seemed  the 
same  silent  spout  they  had  so  long  ago  beheld  in  the  moon- 
lit Atlantic  and  Indian  Oceans. 

"  And  did  none  of  ye  see  it  before?"  cried  Ahab,  hail- 
ing the  perched  men  all  around  him. 

"I  saw  him  almost  that  same  instant,  sir,  that  Captain 
Ahab  did,  and  I  cried  out,"  said  Tashtego. 

"Not  the  same  instant;  not  the  same  — no,  the 
doubloon  is  mine,  Fate  reserved  the  doubloon  for  me.  / 
only;  none  of  ye  could  have  raised  the  White  Whale 
first  There  she  blows!  there  she  blows! — there  she 


CAPTURE  GREAT  WHITE  WHALE      147 

blows!  There  again  —  there  again!"  he  cried,  in  long- 
drawn,  lingering,  methodic  tones,  attuned  to  the  gradual 
prolongings  of  the  whale's  visible  jets.  "  He's  going  to 
sound!  In  stunsails!  Down  top-gallant-sails!  Stand 
by  three  boats.  Mr.  Starbuck,  remember,  stay  on  board, 
and  keep  the  ship.  Helm  there!  Luff,  luff  a  point! 
So;  steady,  man,  steady!  There  go  flukes!  No,  no; 
only  black  water !  All  ready  the  boats  there?  Stand  by, 
stand  by!  Lower  me,  Mr.  Starbuck;  lower,  lower, — 
quick,  quicker !"  and  he  slid  through  the  air  to  the  deck. 

"  He  is  heading  straight  to  leeward,  sir,"  cried  Stubb, 
"  right  away  from  us ;  cannot  have  seen  the  ship  yet." 

"Be  dumb,  man!  Stand  by  the  braces!  Hard  down 
them  helm! — brace  up!  Shiver  her! — shiver  her!  So; 
well  that !  Boats,  boats !" 

Soon  all  the  boats  but  Starbuck' s  were  dropped;  all 
the  boat-sails  set — all  the  paddles  plying;  with  rippling 
swiftness,  shooting  to  leeward;  and  Ahab  heading  the 
onset.  A  pale,  death-glimmer  lit  up  Fedallah's  sunken 
eyes;  a  hideous  motion  gnawed  his  mouth. 

Like  noiseless  nautilus  shells,  their  light  prows  sped 
through  the  sea;  but  only  slowly  they  neared  the  foe. 
As  they  neared  him,  the  ocean  grew  stiil  more  smooth; 
seemed  drawing  a  carpet  over  its  waves;  seemed  a  noon- 
meadow,  so  serenely  it  spread.  At  length  the  breathless 
hunter  came  so  nigh  his  seemingly  unsuspecting  prey, 
that  his  entire  dazzling  hump  was  distinctly  visible,  slid- 
ing along  the  sea  as  if  an  isolated  thing,  and  continually 
set  in  a  revolving  ring  of  finest,  fleecy,  greenish  foam. 
He  saw  the  vast,  involved  wrinkles  of  the  slightly  pro- 
jecting head  beyond.  Before  it,  far  out  on  the  soft  Turk- 
ish-rugged waters,  went  the  glistening  white  shadow  from 
his  broad,  milky  forehead,  a  musical  rippling  playfully 
accompanying  the  shade;  and  behind,  the  blue  waters 
interchangeably  flowed  over  into  the  moving  valley  of  his 


148  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

steady  wake;  and  on  either  hand  bright  bubbles  arose 
and  danced  by  his  side.  But  these  were  broken  again  by 
the  light  toes  of  hundreds  of  gay  fowl  softly  feathering 
the  sea,  alternate  with  their  fitful  flight;  and  like  to  some 
flag-staff  rising  from  the  painted  hull  of  an  argosy,  the 
tall  but  shattered  pole  of  a  recent  lance  projected  from 
the  white  whale's  back;  and  at  intervals  one  of  the  cloud 
of  soft-toed  fowls  hovering,  and  to  and  fro  skimming 
like  a  canopy  over  the  fish,  silently  perched  and  rocked 
on  this  pole,  the  long  tail  feathers  streaming  like  pennons. 

A  gentle  joyousness — a  mighty  mildness  of  repose  in 
swiftness,  invested  the  gliding  whale.  Not  the  white 
bull  Jupiter  swimming  away  with  ravished  Europa  cling- 
ing to  his  graceful  horns;  his  lovely,  leering  eyes  side- 
ways intent  upon  the  maid;  with  smooth  bewitching 
fleetness,  rippling  straight  for  the  nuptial  bower  in  Crete; 
not  Jove,  not  that  great  majesty  Supreme!  did  surpass 
the  glorified  White  Whale  as  he  so  divinely  swam. 

On  each  soft  side — coincident  with  the  parted  swell, 
that  but  once  leaving  him,  then  flowed  so  wide  away — on 
each  bright  side,  the  whale  shed  off  enticings.  No  won- 
der there  had  been  some  among  the  hunters  who  name- 
lessly  transported  and  allured  by  all  this  serenity,  had 
ventured  to  assail  it ;  but  had  fatally  found  that  quietude 
but  the  vesture  of  tornadoes.  Yet  calm,  enticing  calm, 
oh,  whale !  thou  glidest  on,  to  all  who  for  the  first  time 
eye  thee,  no  matter  how  many  in  that  same  way  thou 
may'st  have  bejuggled  and  destroyed  before. 

And  thus,  through  the  serene  tranquillities  of  the  trop- 
ical sea,  among  waves  whose  hand-clappings  were  sus- 
pended by  exceeding  rapture,  Moby  Dick  moved  on,  still 
withholding  from  sight  the  full  terrors  of  his  submerged 
trunk,  entirely  hiding  the  wrenched  hideousness  of  his 
jaw.  But  soon  the  fore  part  of  him  slowly  rose  from  the 
water;  for  an  instant  his  whole  marbleized  body  formed 


CAPTURE  GREAT  WHITE  WHALE      149 

a  high  arch,  like  Virginia's  Natural  Bridge,  and  warn- 
ingly  waving  his  bannered  flukes  in  the  air,  the  grand  god 
revealed  himself,  sounded,  and  went  out  of  sight.  Hover- 
ingly,  halted,  and  dipping  on  the  wing,  the  white  sea-fowls 
longingly  lingered  over  the  agitated  pool  that  he  left. 

With  oars  apeak,  and  paddles  down,  the  sheets  of 
their  sails  adrift,  the  three  boats  now  stilly  floated,  await- 
ing Moby  Dick's  reappearance. 

"An  hour,"  said  Ahab,  standing  rooted  in  his  boat's 
stern;  and  he  gazed  beyond  the  whale's  place,  toward 
the  dim  blue  spaces  and  wide  wooing  vacancies  to  lee- 
ward. It  was  only  an  instant;  for  again  his  eyes  seemed 
whirling  round  in  his  head  as  he  swept  the  watery  circle. 
The  breeze  now  freshened;  the  sea  began  to  swell. 

"The  birds!  —  the  birds!"  cried  Tashtego. 

In  long  Indian  file,  as  when  herons  take  wing,  the  white 
birds  were  now  all  flying  towards  Ahab's  boat ;  and  when 
within  a  few  yards  began  fluttering  over  the  water  there, 
wheeling  round  and  round,  with  joyous,  expectant  cries. 
Their  vision  was  keener  than  man's ;  Ahab  could  discover 
no  sign  in  the  sea.  But  suddenly  as  he  peered  down  and 
down  into  its  depths,  he  profoundly  saw  a  white  living 
spot  no  bigger  than  a  white  weasel,  with  wonderful  celer- 
ity uprising,  and  magnifying  as  it  rose,  till  it  turned,  and 
then  there  were  plainly  revealed  two  long  crooked  rows 
of  white,  glistening  teeth,  floating  up  from  the  undiscover- 
able  bottom.  It  was  Moby  Dick's  open  mouth  and 
scrolled  jaw;  his  vast,  shadowed  bulk  still  half  blending 
with  the  blue  of  the  sea.  The  glittering  mouth  yawned 
beneath  the  boat  like  an  open-doored  marble  tomb ;  and 
giving  one  sidelong  sweep  with  his  steering  oar,  Ahab 
whirled  the  craft  aside  from  this  tremendous  apparition. 
Then,  calling  upon  Fedallah  to  change  places  with  him, 
went  forward  to  the  bows,  and  seizing  Perth's  harpoon, 


150  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

commanded  his  crew  to  grasp  their  oars  and  stand  by  to 
stern. 

Now,  by  reason  of  this  timely  spinning  round  the  boat 
upon  its  axis,  its  bow,  by  anticipation,  was  made  to  face 
the  whale's  head  while  yet  under  water.  But  as  if  perceiv- 
ing this  stratagem,  Moby  Dick,  with  that  malicious  in- 
telligence ascribed  to  him,  sidelingly  transplanted  himself, 
at  it  were,  in  an  instant,  shooting  his  pleated  head  length- 
wise beneath  the  boat. 

Through  and  through ;  through  every  plank  and  each 
rib,  it  thrilled  for  an  instant,  the  whale  obliquely  lying 
on  his  back,  in  the  manner  of  a  biting  shark,  slowly  and 
feelingly  taking  its  bows  full  within  his  mouth,  so  that 
the  long,  narrow,  scrolled  lower  jaw  curled  high  up  into 
the  open  air,  and  one  of  the  teeth  caught  in  a  row-lock. 
The  bluish  pearl-white  of  the  inside  of  the  jaw  was  within 
six  inches  of  Ahab's  head,  and  reached  higher  than  that. 
In  this  attitude  the  White  Whale  now  shook  the  slight 
cedar  as  a  mildly  cruel  cat  her  mouse.  With  unastonished 
eyes  Fedallah  gazed,  and  crossed  his  arms;  but  the  tiger- 
yellow  crew  were  tumbling  over  each  other's  heads  to  gain 
the  uttermost  stern. 

And  now,  while  both  elastic  gunwales  were  springing 
in  and  out,  as  the  whale  dallied  with  the  doomed  craft  in 
this  devilish  way;  and  from  his  body  being  submerged 
beneath  the  boat,  he  could  not  be  darted  at  from  the  bows, 
for  the  bows  were  almost  inside  of  him,  as  it  were;  and 
while  the  other  boats  involuntarily  paused,  as  before 
a  quick  crisis  impossible  to  withstand,  then  it  was  that 
monomaniac  Ahab,  furious  with  this  tantalizing  vicinity  of 
his  foe,  which  placed  him  all  alive  and  helpless  in  the  very 
jaws  he  hated;  frenzied  with  all  this,  he  seized  the  long 
bone  with  his  naked  hands,  and  wildly  strove  to  wrench 
it  from  its  gripe.  As  now  he  thus  vainly  strove,  the  jaw 
slipped  from  him;  the  frail  gunwales  bent  in,  collapsed, 


CAPTURE  GREAT  WHITE  WHALE      151 

and  snapped,  as  both  jaws,  like  an  enormous  shears, 
sliding  further  aft,  bit  the  craft  completely  in  twain,  and 
locked  themselves  fast  again  in  the  sea,  midway  between 
the  two  floating  wrecks.  These  floated  aside,  the  broken 
ends  drooping,  the  crew  at  the  stern-wreck  clinging  to  the 
gunwales,  and  striving  to  hold  fast  to  the  oars  to  lash 
them  across. 

At  that  preluding  moment,  ere  the  boat  was  yet 
snapped,  Ahab,  the  first  to  perceive  the  whale's  intent,  by 
the  crafty  upraising  of  his  head,  a  movement  that  loosed 
his  hold  for  the  time;  at  that  moment  his  hand  had 
made  one  final  effort  to  push  the  boat  out  of  the  bite. 
But  only  slipping  further  into  the  whale's  mouth,  and 
tilting  over  sideways  as  it  slipped,  the  boat  had 
shaken  off  his  hold  on  the  jaw;  spilled  him  out  of  it, 
as  he  leaned  to  the  push;  and  so  he  fell  flat-faced  upon 
the  sea. 

Rippingly  withdrawing  from  his  prey,  Moby  Dick  now 
lay  at  a  little  distance,  vertically  thrusting  his  oblong 
white  head  up  and  down  in  the  billows;  and  at  the  same 
time  slowly  revolving  his  whole  spindled  body;  so  that 
when  his  vast  wrinkled  forehead  rose  —  some  twenty  or 
more  feet  out  of  the  water  —  the  now  rising  swells,  with 
all  their  confident  waves,  dazzlingly  broke  against  it; 
vindictively  tossing  their  shivered  spray  still  higher  into 
the  air.*  So,  in  a  gale,  the  but  half  baffled  Channel  bil- 
lows only  recoil  from  the  base  of  the  Eddy-stone,  tri- 
umphantly to  overleap  its  summit  with  their  scud. 

But  soon  resuming  his  horizontal  attitude,  Moby 
Dick  swam  swiftly  round  and  round  the  wrecked  crew; 
sideways  churning  the  water  in  his  vengeful  wake,  as  if 

*  This  motion  is  peculiar  to  the  sperm  whale.  It  receives  its  designa- 
tion (pitchpoling)  from  its  being  likened  to  that  preliminary  up-and-down 
poise  of  the  whale-lance,  in  the  exercise  called  pitchpoling  previously 
described.  By  this  motion  the  whale  must  best  and  most  comprehensively 
view  whatever  objects  may  be  encircling  him. 


152  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

lashing  himself  up  to  still  another  and  more  (deadly  as- 
sault. The  sight  of  the  splintered  boat  seemed  to  madden 
him,  as  the  blood  of  grapes  and  mulberries  cast  before 
Antiochus's  elephants  in  the  book  of  Maccabees.  Mean- 
while Ahab  half  smothered  in  the  foam  of  the  whale's 
insolent  tail,  and  too  much  of  a  cripple  to  swim,  — 
though  he  could  still  keep  afloat,  even  in  the  heart  of  such 
a  whirlpool  as  that;  helpless  Ahab's  head  was  seen,  like 
a  tossed  bubble  which  the  least  chance  shock  might  burst. 
From  the  boat's  fragmentary  stern,  Fedallah  incuriously 
and  mildly  eyed  him ;  the  clinging  crew,  at  the  other  drift- 
ing end,  could  not  succor  him ;  more  than  enough  was  it 
to  look  to  themselves.  For  so  revolvingly  appalling  was 
the  White  Whale's  aspect,  and  so  planetarily  swift  the 
ever-contracting  circles  he  made,  that  he  seemed  horizon- 
tally swooping  upon  them.  And  though  the  other  boats 
unharmed,  still  hovered  hard  by;  still  they  dared  not  pull 
into  the  eddy  to  strike,  lest  that  should  be  the  signal  for 
the  instant  destruction  of  the  jeopardized  castaways, 
Ahab  and  all ;  nor  in  that  case  could  they  themselves  hope 
to  escape.  With  straining  eyes,  then,  they  remained  on 
the  outer  edge  of  the  direful  zone,  whose  centre  had  now 
become  the  old  man's  head. 

Meantime,  from  the  beginning  all  this  had  been  des- 
cried from  the  ship's  mast  heads;  and  squaring  her  yards, 
she  had  borne  down  upon  the  scene ;  and  was  now  so  nigh, 
that  Ahab  in  the  water  hailed  her: — "Sail  on  the" — but 
that  moment  a  breaking  sea  dashed  on  him  from  Moby 
Dick,  and  whelmed  him  for  the  time.  But  struggling  out 
of  it  again,  and  chancing  to  rise  on  a  towering  crest,  he 
shouted, — "Sail  on  the  whale! — Drive  him  off!" 

The  Pequod's  prows  were  pointed;  and  breaking  up  the 
charmed  circle,  she  effectually  parted  the  whale  from  his 
victim.  As  he  suddenly  swam  off,  the  boats  flew  to  the 
rescue. 


CAPTURE  GREAT  WHITE  WHALE      153 

Dragged  into  Stubb's  boat  with  blood-shot,  blinded 
eyes,  the  white  brine  caking  in  his  wrinkles;  the  long  ten- 
sion of  Ahab's  bodily  strength  did  crack,  and  helplessly 
he  yielded  to  his  body's  doom :  for  a  long  time,  lying  all 
crushed  in  the  bottom  of  Stubb's  boat,  like  one  trodden 
under  foot  of  herds  of  elephants.  Far  inland,  nameless 
wails  came  from  him,  as  desolate  sounds  from  out  ravines. 

But  this  intensity  of  his  physical  prostration  did  but 
so  much  the  more  abbreviate  it.  In  an  instant's  com- 
pass, great  hearts  sometimes  condense  to  one  deep  pang, 
the  sum  total  of  those  shallow  pains  kindly  diffused 
through  feebler  men's  whole  lives.  And  so,  such  hearts, 
though  summary  in  each  one  suffering;  still,  if  the  gods 
decree  it,  in  their  life-time  aggregate  a  whole  age  of  woe, 
wholly  made  up  of  instantaneous  intensities;  for  even  in 
their  pointless  centres,  those  noble  natures  contain  the 
entire  circumferences  of  inferior  souls. 

"The  harpoon,"  said  Ahab,  half  way  rising,  and  drag- 
gingly  leaning  on  one  bended  arm — "is  it  safe !" 

"Aye,  sir,  for  it  was  not  darted;  this  is  it,"  said  Stubb, 
showing  it. 

"Lay  it  before  me; — any  missing  men!" 

"One,  two,  three,  four,  five ; — there  were  five  oars,  sir, 
and  here  are  five  men." 

"That's  good. — Help  me,  man;  I  wish  to  stand.  So, 
so,  I  see  him !  there !  there !  going  to  leeward  still ;  what 
a  leaping  spout ! — Hands  off  from  me !  The  eternal  sap 
runs  up  in  Ahab's  bones  again!  Set  the  sail;  out  oars; 
the  helm!" 

It  is  often  the  case  that  when  a  boat  is  stove,  its  crew, 
being  picked  up  by  another  boat,  help  to  work  that  sec- 
ond boat;  and  the  chase  is  thus  continued  with  what  is 
called  double-banked  oars.  It  was  thus  now.  But  the 
added  power  of  the  boat  did  not  equal  the  added  power 
of  the  whale,  for  he  seemed  to  have  treble-banked  his 


154  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

every  fin ;  swimming  with  a  velocity  which  plainly  showed, 
that  if  now,  under  these  circumstances,  pushed  on,  the 
chase  would  prove  an  indefinitely  prolonged,  if  not  a  hope- 
less one;  nor  could  any  crew  endure  for  so  long  a  period, 
such  an  unintermitted,  intense  straining  at  the  oar;  a 
thing  barely  tolerable  only  in  some  one  brief  vicissitude. 
The  ship  itself,  then,  as  it  sometimes  happens,  offered 
the  most  promising  intermediate  means  of  overtaking  the 
chase.  Accordingly,  the  boats  now  made  for  her,  and 
were  soon  swayed  up  to  their  cranes — the  two  parts  of 
the  wrecked  boat  having  been  previously  secured  by  her 
— and  then  hoisting  everything  to  her  side,  and  stacking 
her  canvas  high  up,  and  sideways  outstretching  it  with 
stun-sails,  like  the  double-jointed  wings  of  an  albatross; 
the  Pequod  bore  down  in  the  leeward  wake  of  Moby 
Dick.  At  the  well  known,  methodic  intervals,  the  whale's 
glittering  spout  was  regularly  announced  from  the 
manned  mast-heads;  and  when  he  would  be  reported  as 
just  gone  down,  Ahab  would  take  the  time,  and  then  pac- 
ing the  deck,  binnacle-watch  in  hand,  so  soon  as  the  last 
second  of  the  allotted  hour  expired,  his  voice  was  heard. 
— "Whose  is  the  doubloon  now?  D'ye  see  him?"  and 
if  the  reply  was,  No,  sir !  straightway  he  commanded  them 
to  lift  him  to  his  perch.  In  this  way  the  day  wore  on; 
Ahab,  now  aloft  and  motionless;  anon,  unrestingly  pacing 
the  planks. 

As  he  was  thus  walking,  uttering  no  sound,  except  to 
hail  the  men  aloft,  or  to  bid  them  hoist  a  sail  still  higher, 
or  to  spread  one  to  a  still  greater  breadth — thus  to  and 
fro  pacing,  beneath  his  slouched  hat,  at  every  turn  he 
passed  his  own  wrecked  boat,  which  had  been  dropped 
upon  the  quarter-deck,  and  lay  there  reversed;  broken 
bow  to  shattered  stern.  At  last  he  paused  before  it;  and 
as  in  an  already  over-clouded  sky  fresh  troops  of  clouds 


CAPTURE  GREAT  WHITE  WHALE      155 

will  sometimes  sail  across,  so  over  the  old  man's  face 
there  now  stole  some  such  added  gloom  as  this. 

Stubb  saw  him  pause;  and  perhaps  intending,  not 
vainly,  though,  to  evince  his  own  unabated  fortitude,  and 
thus  keep  up  a  valiant  place  in  his  Captain's  mind,  he  ad- 
vanced, and  eyeing  the  wreck  exclaimed — "The  thistle 
the  ass  refused;  it  pricked  his  mouth  too  keenly,  sir;  ha! 
ha!" 

"What  soulless  thing  is  this  that  laughs  before  a  wreck? 
Man,  man !  did  I  not  know  thee  brave  as  fearless  fire 
(and  as  mechanical)  I  could  swear  thou  wert  a  poltroon. 
Groan  nor  laugh  should  be  heard  before  a  wreck." 

uAye,  sir,"  said  Starbuck  drawing  near,  "'tis  a  sol- 
emn sight;  an  omen,  and  an  ill  one." 

uOmen  ?  omen  ? — the  dictionary !  If  the  gods  think  to 
speak  outright  to  man,  they  will  honorably  speak  out- 
right; not  shake  their  heads,  and  give  an  old  wives'  dark- 
ling hint. — Begone!  Ye  two  are  the  opposite  poles  of 
one  thing;  Starbuck  is  Stubb  reversed,  and  Stubb  is  Star- 
buck;  and  ye  two  are  all  mankind;  and  Ahab  stands  alone 
among  the  millions  of  the  peopled  earth,  nor  gods  nor 
men  his  neighbors!  Cold,  cold — I  shiver! — How  now? 
Aloft  there!  D'ye  see  him?  Sing  out  for  every  spout, 
though  he  spout  ten  times  a  second!" 

The  day  was  nearly  done;  only  the  hem  of  his  golden 
robe  was  rustling.  Soon,  it  was  almost  dark,  but  the 
look-out  men  still  remained  unset. 

"Can't  see  the  spout  now,  sir; — too  dark" — cried  a 
voice  from  the  air. 

"How  heading  when  last  seen?" 

"As  before,  sir, — straight  to  leeward." 

"Good!  he  will  travel  slower  now  'tis  night.  Down 
royals  and  top-gallant  stun-sails,  Mr.  Starbuck.  We 
must  not  run  over  him  before  morning;  he's  making  a 
passage  now,  and  may  heave-to  a  while.  Helm  there! 


156  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

keep  her  full  before  the  wind! — Aloft!  come  down! — 
Mr.  Stubb,  send  a  fresh  hand  to  the  fore-mast  head,  and 
see  it  manned  till  morning." — Then  advancing  towards 
the  doubloon  in  the  main-mast — "Men,  this  gold  is  mine, 
for  I  earned  it;  but  I  shall  let  it  abide  here  till  the  White 
Whale  is  dead;  and  then,  whosoever  of  ye  first  raises 
him,  upon  the  day  he  shall  be  killed,  this  gold  is  that 
man's;  and  if  on  that  day  I  shall  again  raise  him,  then, 
ten  times  its  sum  shall  be  divided  among  all  of  ye !  Away 
now ! — the  deck  is  thine,  sir." 

And  so  saying,  he  placed  himself  half  way  within  the 
scuttle,  and  sloucliing  his  hat,  stood  there  till  dawn,  ex- 
cept when  at  intervals  rousing  himself  to  see  how  the 
night  wore  on. 

SECOND  DAY. 

AT  day-break,  the  three  mast-heads  were  punctually 
manned  afresh. 

"D'ye  see  him?"  cried  Ahab,  after  allowing  a  little 
space  for  the  light  to  spread. 

"See  nothing,  sir." 

"Turn  up  all  hands  and  make  sail!  he  travels  faster 
than  I  thought  for ; — the  top-gallant  sails ! — aye,  they 
should  have  been  kept  on  her  all  night.  But  no  matter — 
'tis  but  resting  for  the  rush." 

Here  be  it  said,  that  this  pertinacious  pursuit  of  one 
particular  whale,  continued  through  day  into  night,  and 
through  night  into  day,  is  a  thing  by  no  means  unprece- 
dented in  the  South  sea  fishery.  For  such  is  the  wonder- 
ful skill,  prescience  of  experience,  and  invincible  confidence 
acquired  by  some  great  natural  geniuses  among  the  Nan- 
tucket  commanders;  that  from  the  simple  observation  of 
a  whale  when  last  descried,  they  will,  under  certain  given 
circumstances,  pretty  accurately  foretell  both  the  direc- 
tion in  which  he  will  continue  to  swim  for  a  time,  while 


CAPTURE  GREAT  WHITE  WHALE      157 

out  of  sight,  as  well  as  his  probable  rate  of  progression 
during  that  period.  And,  in  these  cases,  somewhat  as 
a  pilot,  when  about  losing  sight  of  a  coast,  whose  general 
trending  he  well  knows,  and  which  he  desires  shortly 
to  return  to  again,  but  at  some  further  point ;  like  as  this 
pilot  stands  by  his  compass,  and  takes  the  precise  bearing 
of  the  cape  at  present  visible,  in  order  the  more  certainly 
to  hit  aright  the  remote,  unseen  headland,  eventually  to 
be  visited:  so  does  the  fisherman,  at  his  compass,  with 
the  whale ;  for  after  being  chased,  and  diligently  marked, 
through  several  hours  of  daylight,  then,  when  night  ob- 
scures the  fish,  the  creature's  future  wake  through  the 
darkness  is  almost  as  established  to  the  sagacious  mind 
of  the  hunter,  as  the  pilot's  coast  is  to  him.  So  that  to 
this  hunter's  wondrous  skill,  the  proverbial  evanescence 
of  a  thing  writ  in  water,  a  wake,  is  to  all  desired  purposes 
well-nigh  as  reliable  as  the  steadfast  land.  And  as  the 
mighty  iron  Leviathan  of  the  modern  railway  is  so  fa- 
miliarly known  in  its  every  pace,  that,  with  watches  in 
their  hands,  men  time  his  rate,  as  doctors  that  of  a  baby's 
pulse ;  and  lightly  say  of  it,  the  up  train  or  the  down  train 
will  reach  such  or  such  a  spot,  at  such  or  such  an  hour; 
even  so,  almost,  there  are  occasions  when  these  Nantuck- 
eters  time  that  other  Leviathan  of  the  deep,  according  to 
the  observed  humor  of  his  speed ;  and  say  to  themselves, 
so  many  hours  hence  this  whale  will  have  gone  two  hun- 
dred miles,  will  have  about  reached  this  or  that  degree  of 
latitude  or  longitude.  But  to  render  this  acuteness  at  all 
successful  in  the  end,  the  wind  and  the  sea  must  be  the 
whaleman's  allies;  for  of  what  present  avail  to  the  be- 
calmed or  windbound  mariner  is  the  skill  that  assures  him 
he  is  exactly  ninety-three  leagues  and  a  quarter  from  his 
port?  Inferable  from  these  statements,  are  many  col- 
lateral subtile  matters  touching  the  chase  of  whales. 
The  ship  tore  on ;  leaving  such  a  furrow  in  the  sea  as 


158  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

when  a  cannon-ball,  missent,  becomes  a  ploughshare  and 
turns  up  the  level  field. 

"By  salt  and  hemp !"  cried  Stubb,  "but  this  swift  mo- 
tion of  the  deck  creeps  up  one's  legs  and  tingles  at  the 
heart.  This  ship  and  I  are  two  brave  fellows! — Ha! 
ha !  Some  one  take  me  up,  and  launch  me,  spine-wise, 
on  the  sea, — for  by  live-oaks!  my  spine's  a  keel.  Ha, 
ha !  we  go  the  gait  that  leaves  no  dust  behind !" 

"There  she  blows — she  blows! — she  blows! — right 
ahead  I"  was  now  the  mast-head  cry. 

"Aye,  aye!"  cried  Stubb,  "I  knew  it — ye  can't  escape 

—blow  on  and  split  your  spout,  O  whale !  the  mad  fiend 

himself  is  after  ye !  blow  your  trump — blister  your  lungs ! 

— Ahab  will  dam  off  your  blood,  as  a  miller  shuts  his 

water-gate  upon  the  stream !" 

And  Stubb  did  but  speak  out  for  well-nigh  all  that  crew. 
The  frenzies  of  the  chase  had  by  this  time  worked  them 
bubblingly  up,  like  old  wine  worked  anew.  Whatever 
pale  fears  and  forebodings  some  of  them  might  have  felt 
before ;  these  were  not  only  now  kept  out  of  sight  through 
the  growing  awe  of  Ahab,  but  they  were  broken  up,  and 
on  all  sides  routed,  as  timid  prairie  hares  that  scatter  be- 
fore the  bounding  bison.  The  hand  of  Fate  had  snatched 
all  their  souls;  and  by  the  stirring  perils  of  the  previous 
day;  the  rack  of  the  past  night's  suspense;  the  fixed,  un- 
fearing,  blind,  reckless  way  in  which  their  wild  craft  went 
plunging  towards  its  flying  mark;  by  all  these  things,  their 
hearts  were  bowled  along.  The  wind  that  made  great 
bellies  of  their  sails,  and  rushed  the  vessel  on  by  arms 
invisible  as  irresistible;  this  seemed  the  symbol  of  that  un- 
seen agency  which  so  enslaved  them  to  the  race. 

They  were  one  man,  not  thirty.  For  as  the  one  ship 
that  held  them  all;  though  it  was  put  together  of  all 
contrasting  things — oak,  and  maple,  and  pine  wood;  iron, 
and  pitch,  and  hemp — yet  all  these  ran  into  each  other  in 


CAPTURE  GREAT  WHITE  WHALE      159 

the  one  concrete  hull,  which  shot  on  its  way,  both  bal- 
anced and  directed  by  the  long  central  keel ;  even  so,  all 
the  individualities  of  the  crew,  this  man's  valor,  that 
man's  fear;  guilt  and  guiltiness,  all  varieties  were  welded 
into  oneness,  and  were  all  directed  to  that  fatal  goal 
which  Ahab  their  one  lord  and  keel  did  point  to. 

The  rigging  lived.  The  mast-heads,  like  the  tops  of 
tall  palms,  were  outspreadingly  tufted  with  arms  and  legs. 
Clinging  to  a  spar  with  one  hand,  some  reached  forth  the 
other  with  impatient  wavings;  others,  shading  their  eyes 
from  the  vivid  sunlight,  sat  far  out  on  the  rocking  yards ; 
all  the  spars  in  full  bearing  of  mortals,  ready  and  ripe  for 
their  fate.  Ah!  how  they  still  strove  through  that  in- 
finite blueness  to  seek  out  the  thing  that  might  destroy 
them! 

"Why  sing  ye  not  out  for  him,  if  ye  see  him?"  cried 
Ahab,  when,  after  the  lapse  of  some  minutes  since  the  first 
cry,  no  more  had  been  heard.  "Sway  me  up,  men;  ye 
have  been  deceived;  not  Moby  Dick  casts  one  odd  jet 
that  way,  and  then  disappears." 

It  was  even  so;  in  their  headlong  eagerness,  the  men 
had  mistaken  some  other  thing  for  the  whale-spout,  as 
the  event  itself  soon  proved;  for  hardly  had  Ahab  reached 
his  perch ;  hardly  was  the  rope  belayed  to  its  pin  on  deck, 
when  he  struck  the  keynote  to  an  orchestra,  that  made 
the  air  vibrate  as  with  the  combined  discharge  of  rifles. 
The  triumphant  halloo  of  thirty  buckskin  lungs  was  heard, 
as — much  nearer  to  the  ship  than  the  place  of  the  imag- 
inary jet,  less  than  a  mile  ahead — Moby  Dick  bodily 
burst  into  view !  For  not  by  any  calm  and  indolent  spout- 
ings!  not  by  the  peaceable  gush  of  that  mystic  fountain 
in  his  head,  did  the  White  Whale  now  reveal  his  vicinity; 
but  by  the  far  more  wondrous  phenomenon  of  breaching. 
Rising  with  his  utmost  velocity  from  the  furthest  depths, 
the  Sperm  Whale  thus  booms  his  entire  bulk  into  the 


160  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

pure  element  of  air,  and  piling  up  a  mountain  of  dazzling 
foam,  shows  his  place  to  the  distance  of  seven  miles  and 
more.  In  those  moments,  the  torn,  enraged  waves  he 
shakes  off,  seem  his  mane;  in  some  cases,  this  breaching  is 
his  act  of  defiance. 

"There  she  breaches!  there  she  breaches!"  was  the  cry, 
as  in  his  immeasurable  bravadoes  the  White  Whale  tossed 
himself  salmon-like  to  Heaven.  So  suddenly  seen  in  the 
blue  plain  of  the  sea,  and  relieved  against  the  still  bluer 
margin  of  the  sky,  the  spray  that  he  raised,  for  the  mo- 
ment, intolerably  glittered  and  glared  like  a  glacier;  and 
stood  there  gradually  fading  and  fading  away  from  its 
first  sparkling  intensity,  to  the  dim  mistiness  of  an  ad- 
vancing shower  in  a  vale. 

"Aye,  breach  your  last  to  the  sun,  Moby  Dick!"  cried 
Ahab,  "thy  hour  and  thy  harpoon  are  at  hand! — Down! 
down  all  of  ye,  but  one  man  at  the  fore.  The  boats ! — 
standby!" 

Unmindful  of  the  tedious  rope-ladders  of  the  shrouds, 
the  men,  like  shooting  stars,  slid  to  the  deck,  by  the  iso- 
lated backstays  and  halyards ;  while  Ahab,  less  dartingly, 
but  still  rapidly  was  dropped  from  his  perch. 

"Lower  away,"  he  cried,  so  soon  as  he  had  reached 
his  boat — a  spare  one,  rigged  the  afternoon  previous. 
"Mr.  Starbuck,  the  ship  is  thine — keep  away  from  the 
boats,  but  keep  near  them.  Lower,  all !" 

As  if  to  strike  a  quick  terror  into  them,  by  this  time  be- 
ing the  first  assailant  himself,  Moby  Dick  had  turned, 
and  was  now  coming  for  the  three  crews.  Ahab's  boat 
was  central;  and  cheering  his  men,  he  told  them  he  would 
take  the  whale  head-and-head, — that  is,  pull  straight  up 
to  his  forehead, — a  not  uncommon  thing;  for  when  with- 
in a  certain  limit,  such  a  course  excludes  the  coming  onset 
from  the  whale's  sidelong  vision.  But  ere  that  close 
limit  was  gained,  and  while  yet  all  three  boats  were  plain 


CAPTURE  GREAT  WHITE  WHALE      161 

as  the  ship's  three  masts  to  his  eye;  the  White  Whale 
churning  himself  into  furious  speed,  almost  in  an  instant 
as  it  were,  rushing  among  the  boats  with  open  jaws,  and 
a  lashing  tail,  offered  appalling  battle  on  every  side;  and 
heedless  of  the  irons  darted  at  him  from  every  boat, 
seemed  only  intent  on  annihilating  each  separate  plank  of 
which  those  boats  were  made.  But  skillfully  manoeuvred, 
incessantly  wheeling  like  trained  charges  in  the  field;  the 
boats  for  a  while  eluded  him;  though,  at  times,  but  by  a 
plank's  breadth ;  while  all  the  time,  Ahab's  unearthly  slo- 
gan tore  every  other  cry  but  his  to  shreds. 

But  at  last  in  his  untraceable  evolutions,  the  White 
Whale  so  crossed  and  recrossed,  and  in  a  thousand  ways 
entangled  the  clack  of  the  three  lines  now  fast  to  him, 
that  they  foreshortened,  and,  of  themselves,  warped  the 
devoted  boats  towards  the  planted  irons  in  him;  though 
now  for  a  moment  the  whale  drew  aside  a  little,  as  if  to 
rally  for  a  more  tremendous  charge.  Seizing  that  op- 
portunity, Ahab  first  paid  out  more  line:  and  then  was 
rapidly  hauling  and  jerking  in  upon  it  again — hoping  that 
way  to  disencumber  it  of  some  snarls — when  lo  I — a  sight 
more  savage  than  the  embattled  teeth  of  sharks ! 

Caught  and  twisted — corkscrewed  in  the  mazes  of  the 
line,  loose  harpoons  and  lances,  with  all  their  bristling 
barbs  and  points,  came  flashing  and  dripping  up  to  the 
chocks  in  the  bows  of  Ahab's  boat.  Only  one  thing  could 
be  done.  Seizing  the  boat-knife,  he  critically  reached 
within — through — and  then,  without — the  rays  of  steel; 
dragged  in  the  line  beyond,  passed  it  inboard,  to  the  bows- 
man,  and  then,  twice  sundering  the  rope  near  the  chocks 
— dropped  the  intercepted  fagot  of  steel  into  the  sea; 
and  was  all  fast  again.  That  instant,  the  White  Whale 
made  a  sudden  rush  among  the  remaining  tangles  of  the 
other  lines;  by  so  doing,  irresistibly  dragged  the  more  in- 
volved boats  of  Stubb  and  Flack  towards  his  flukes ;  dash- 


162  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

ed  them  together  like  two  rolling  husks  on  a  surf-beaten 
beach,  and  then,  diving  down  into  the  sea,  disappeared  in 
a  boiling  maelstrom,  in  which,  for  a  space,  the  odorous 
cedar  chips  of  the  wrecks  danced  round  and  round,  like 
grated  nutmeg  in  a  swiftly  stirred  bowl  of  punch. 

While  the  two  crews  were  yet  circling  in  the  waters, 
reaching  out  after  the  revolving  line-tubs,  oars,  and  other 
floating  furniture,  while  aslope  little  Flask  bobbed  up  and 
down  like  an  empty  vial,  twitching  his  legs  upwards  to  es- 
cape the  dreaded  jaws  of  sharks;  and  Stubb  was  lustily 
singing  out  for  some  one  to  ladle  him  up ;  and  while  the 
old  man's  line — now  parting — admitted  of  his  pulling 
into  the  creamy  pool  to  rescue  whom  he  could; — in  that 
wild  simultaneousness  of  a  thousand  concreted  perils, — 
Ahab's  yet  unstricken  boat  seemed  drawn  up  towards 
Heaven  by  invisible  wires, — as,  arrow-like,  shooting  per- 
pendicularly from  the  sea,  the  White  Whale  dashed  his 
broad  forehead  against  its  bottom,  and  sent  it,  turning 
over  and  over,  into  the  air;  till  it  fell  again — gunwale 
downwards — and  Ahab  and  his  men  struggled  out  from 
under  it,  like  seals  from  a  sea-side  cave. 

The  first  uprising  momentum  of  the  whale — modifying 
its  direction  as  he  struck  the  surface — involuntarily 
launched  him  along  it,  to  a  little  distance  from  the  centre 
of  the  destruction  he  had  made;  and  with  his  back  to  it, 
he  now  lay  for  a  moment  slowly  feeling  with  his  flukes 
from  side  to  side ;  and  whenever  a  stray  oar,  bit  of  plank, 
the  least  chip  or  crumb  of  the  boats  touched  his  skin,  his 
tail  swiftly  drew  back,  and  came  sideways  smiting  the  sea. 
But  soon,  as  if  satisfied  that  his  work  for  that  time  was 
done,  he  pushed  his  pleated  forehead  through  the  ocean, 
and  trailing  after  him  the  intertanglcd  lines,  continued 
his  leeward  way  at  a  traveller's  methodic  pace. 

As  before,  the  attentive  ship  having  descried  the  whole 
fight,  again  came  bearing  down  to  the  rescue,  and  drop- 


CAPTURE  GREAT  WHITE  WHALE      163 

ping  a  boat,  picked  up  the  floating  manners,  tubs,  oars, 
and  whatever  else  could  be  caught  at,  and  safely  landed 
them  on  her  decks.  Some  sprained  shoulders,  wrists,  and 
ankles;  livid  contusions;  wrenched  harpoons  and  lances; 
inextricable  intricacies  of  rope ;  shattered  oars  and  planks ; 
all  these  were  there ;  but  no  fatal  or  even  serious  ill  seemed 
to  have  befallen  any  one.  As  with  Fedallah  the  day  be- 
fore, so  Ahab  was  now  found  grimly  clinging  to  his  boat's 
broken  half,  which  afforded  a  comparatively  easy  float; 
nor  did  it  so  exhaust  him  as  the  previous  day's  mishap. 

But  when  he  was  helped  to  the  deck,  all  eyes  were  fas- 
tened upon  him;  as  instead  of  standing  by  himself  he  still 
half-hung  upon  the  shoulder  of  Starbuck,  who  had  thus 
far  been  the  foremost  to  assist  him.  His  ivory  leg  had 
been  snapped  off,  leaving  but  one  short  sharp  splinter. 

"Aye  aye,  Starbuck,  'tis  sweet  to  lean  sometimes,  be 
the  leaner  who  he  will;  and  would  old  Ahab  had  leaned 
oftener  than  he  has." 

"The  ferrule  has  not  stood,  sir,"  said  the  carpenter, 
now  coming  up ;  "I  put  good  work  into  that  leg." 

"But  no  bones  broken,  sir,  I  hope,"  said  Stubb  with 
true  concern. 

"Aye !  and  all  splintered  to  pieces,  Stubb  ! — d'ye  see  it. 
—But  even  with  a  broken  bone,  old  Ahab  is  untouched ; 
and  I  account  no  living  bone  of  mine  one  jot  more  me,  than 
this  dead  one  that's  lost.  Nor  white  whale,  nor  man, 
nor  fiend,  can  so  much  as  graze  old  Ahab  in  his  own  proper 
and  inaccessible  being.  Can  any  lead  touch  yonder  floor, 
any  mast  scrape  yonder  roof? — Aloft  there  I  which  way?" 

"Dead  to  leeward,  sir." 

"Up  helm,  then;  pile  on  the  sail  again,  ship  keepers! 
down  the  rest  of  the  spare  boats  and  rig  them — Mr.  Star- 
buck  away,  and  muster  the  boat's  crews." 

"Let  me  first  help  thee  towards  the  bulwarks,  sir." 

"Oh,  oh,  oh!  how  this  splinter  gores  me  now!    Ac- 


164  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

cursed  fate!  that  the  unconquerable  captain  in  the  soul 
should  have  such  a  craven  mate !" 

"Sir?" 

"My  body,  man,  not  thee.  Give  me  something  for  a 
cane — there,  that  shivered  lance  will  do.  Muster  the 
men.  Surely  I  have  not  seen  him  yet.  By  heaven  it  can- 
not be! — missing? — quick!  call  them  all." 

The  old  man's  hinted  thought  was  true.  Upon  muster- 
ing the  company,  the  Parsec  was  not  there. 

"The  Parsee!"  cried  Stubb — "he  must  have  been 
caught  in " 

"The  black  vomit  wrench  thee ! — run  all  of  ye  above, 
alow,  cabin,  forecastle — find  him — not  gone — not  gone !" 

But  quickly  they  returned  to  him  with  the  tidings  that 
the  Parsee  was  nowhere  to  be  found. 

"Aye,  sir,"  said  Stubb — "caught  among  the  tangles  of 
your  line — I  thought  I  saw  him  dragging  under." 

"My  line!  my  line?  Gone? — gone?  What  means 
that  little  word? — What  death-knell  rings  in  it,  that  old 
Ahab  shakes  as  if  he  were  the  belfry.  The  harpoon,  too ! 
— toss  over  the  litter  there, — d'ye  see  it? — the  forged 
iron,  men,  the  white  whale's — no,  no,  no, — blistered  fool ! 
this  hand  did  dart  it! — 'tis  in  the  fish! — Aloft  there! 
Keep  him  nailed — Quick! — all  hands  to  the  rigging  of 
the  boats — collect  the  oars — harpooners!  the  irons,  the 
irons!  hoist  the  royals  higher — a  pull  on  all  the  sheets! 
helm  there !  steady,  steady  for  your  life !  I'll  ten-times 
girdle  the  unmeasured  globe;  yea  and  dive  straight 
through  it,  but  I'll  slay  him  yet!" 

"Great  God !  but  for  one  single  instant  show  thyself," 
cried  Starbuck;  "never,  never  will  thou  capture  him,  old 
man — In  Jesus'  name  no  more  of  this,  that's  worse  than 
devil's  madness.  Two  days  chased;  twice  stove  to  splin- 
ters; thy  very  leg  once  more  snatched  from  under  thee; 
thy  evil  shadow  gone — all  good  angles  mobbing  thee  with 


CAPTURE  GREAT  WHITE  WHALE      165 

warnings: — what  more  wouldst  thou  have? — Shall  we 
keep  chasing  this  murdeous  fish  till  he  swamps  the  last 
man?  Shall  we  be  dragged  by  him  to  the  bottom  of  the 
sea?  Shall  we  be  towed  by  him  to  the  infernal  world? 
Oh,  oh, — Impiety  and  blasphemy  to  hunt  him  more!" 

"Starbuck,  of  late  IVe  felt  strangely  moved  to  thee; 
ever  since  that  hour  we  both  saw — thou  know'st  what,  in 
one  another's  eyes.  But  in  this  matter  of  the  whale,  be 
the  front  of  thy  face  to  me  as  the  palm  of  this  hand — a 
lipless,  unfeatured  blank.  Ahab  is  for  ever  Ahab,  man. 
This  whole  act's  immutably  decreed.  'Twas  rehearsed 
by  thee  and  me  a  billion  years  before  this  ocean  rolled. 
Fool !  I  am  the  Fates'  lieutenant ;  I  act  under  orders.  Look 
thou,  underling!  that  thou  obeyest  mine. — Stand  round 
me,  men.  Ye  see  an  old  man  cut  down  to  the  stump; 
leaning  on  a  shivered  lance ;  propped  up  on  a  lonely  foot. 
'Tis  Ahab — his  body's  part ;  but  Ahab's  soul's  a  centipede, 
that  moves  upon  a  hundred  legs.  I  feel  strained,  half- 
stranded,  as  ropes  that  tow  dismasted  frigates  in  a  gale ; 
and  I  may  look  so.  But  ere  I  break,  ye'll  hear  me  crack; 
and  till  ye  hear  that,  know  that  Ahab's  hawser  tows  his 
purpose  yet.  Believe  ye,  men,  in  the  things  called  omens  ? 
Then  laugh  aloud,  and  cry  encore  !  For  ere  they  drown, 
drowning  things  will  twice  rise  to  the  surface;  then  rise 
again,  to  sink  for  evermore.  So  with  Moby  Dick — two 
days  he's  floated — to-morrow  will  be  the  third.  Aye, 
men,  he'll  rise  once  more, — but  only  to  spout  his  last! 
D'ye  feel  brave  men,  brave?" 

"As  fearless  fire,"  cried  Stubb. 

"And  as  mechanical,"  muttered  Ahab.  Then  as  the 
men  went  forward,  he  muttered  on: — "The  things  called 
omens!  And  yesterday  I  talked  the  same  to  Starbuck 
there,  concerning  my  broken  boat.  Oh!  how  valiantly  I 
seek  to  drive  out  of  others'  hearts  what's  clinched  so  fast 
in  mine! — The  Parsee — the  Parsee! — gone,  gone?  and 


166  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

he  was  to  go  before : — but  still  was  to  be  seen  again  ere 
I  could  perish  —  How's  that?  —  There's  a  riddle  now 
might  baffle  all  the  lawyers  backed  by  the  ghosts  of  the 
whole  line  of  judges: — like  a  hawk's  beak  it  pecks  my 
brain.  /'//,  I'll  solve  it,  though !" 

When  dusk  descended,  the  whale  was  still  in  sight  to 
leeward. 

So  once  more  the  sail  was  shortened,  and  everything 
passed  nearly  as  on  the  previous  night;  only,  the  sound 
of  hammers,  and  the  hum  of  the  grindstone  was  heard 
till  nearly  daylight,  as  the  men  toiled  by  lanterns  in  the 
complete  and  careful  rigging  of  the  spare  boats  and  sharp- 
ening their  fresh  weapons  for  the  morrow.  Meantime,  of 
the  broken  keel  of  Ahab's  wrecked  craft  the  carpenter 
made  him  another  leg;  while  still  as  on  the  night  before, 
slouched  Ahab  stood  fixed  within  his  scuttle ;  his  hid,  helio- 
trope glance  anticipatingly  gone  backward  on  its  dial;  sat 
due  eastward  for  the  earliest  sun. 

THIRD  DAY. 

THE  morning  of  the  third  day  dawned  fair  and  fresh, 
and  once  more  the  solitary  night-man  at  the  fore-mast- 
head was  relieved  by  crowds  of  the  daylight  lookouts, 
who  dotted  every  mast  and  almost  every  spar. 

uD'ye  see  him?"  cried  Ahab;  but  the  whale  was  not 
yet  in  sight. 

"In  his  infallible  wake,  though;  but  follow  that  wake, 
that's  all.  Helm  there;  steady,  as  thou  goest,  and  hast 
been  going.  What  a  lovely  day  again!  were  it  a  new- 
made  world,  and  made  for  a  summer-house  to  the  angels, 
and  this  morning  the  first  of  its  throwing  open  to  them, 
a  fairer  day  could  not  dawn  upon  that  world.  Here's 
food  for  thought,  had  Ahab  time  to  think;  but  Ahab 
never  thinks;  he  only  feels,  feels,  feels;  that's  tingling 


CAPTURE  GREAT  WHITE  WHALE      167 

enough  for  mortal  man !  to  think's  audacity.  God  only 
has  that  right  and  privilege.  Thinking  is,  or  ought  to 
be,  a  coolness  and  a  calmness;  and  our  poor  hearts  throb, 
and  our  poor  brains  beat  too  much  for  that.  And  yet, 
I've  sometimes  thought  my  brain  was  very  calm — frozen 
calm,  this  old  skull  cracks  so,  like  a  glass  in  which  the 
contents  turned  to  ice,  and  shiver  it.  And  still  this  hair 
is  growing  now;  this  moment  growing,  and  the  heat  must 
breed  it;  but  no,  it's  like  that  sort  of  common  grass  that 
will  grow  anywhere,  between  the  earthly  clefts  of  Green- 
land ice  or  in  Vesuvius  lava.  How  the  wild  winds  blow; 
they  whip  about  me  as  the  torn  shreds  of  split  sails  lash 
the  tossed  ship  they  cling  to.  A  vile  wind  that  has  no 
doubt  blown  ere  this  through  prison  corridors  and  cells, 
and  wards  of  hospitals,  and  ventilated  them,  and  now 
comes  blowing  hither  as  innocent  as  fleeces.  Out  upon 
it ! — it's  tainted.  Were  I  the  wind,  I'd  blow  no  more  on 
such  a  wicked,  miserable  world.  I'd  crawl  somewhere 
to  a  cave,  and  slink  there.  And  yet,  'tis  a  noble  and  he- 
roic thing,  the  wind!  who  ever  conquered  it?  In  every 
fight  it  has  the  last  and  bitterest  blow.  Run  tilting  at  it, 
and  you  but  run  through  it.  Ha !  a  coward  wind  that 
strikes  stark  naked  men,  but  will  not  stand  to  receive  a 
single  blow.  Even  Ahab  is  a  braver  thing — a  nobler 
thing  than  that.  Would  now  the  wind  but  had  a  body; 
but  all  the  things  that  most  exasperate  and  outrage  mortal 
man,  all  these  things  are  bodiless,  but  only  bodiless  as 
objects,  not  as  agents.  There's  a  most  special,  a  most 
cunning,  oh,  a  most  malicious  difference!  And  yet,  I 
say  again,  and  swear  it  now,  that  there's  something  all 
glorious  and  gracious  in  the  wind.  These  warm  Trade 
Winds,  at  least,  that  in  the  clear  heavens  blow  straight 
on,  in  strong  and  steadfast,  vigorous  mildness ;  and  veer 
not  from  their  mark,  however  the  baser  currents  of  the 
sea  may  turn  and  tack,  and  mightiest  Mississipies  of  the 


168  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

land  swift  and  swerve  about,  uncertain  where  to  go  at 
last.  And  by  the  eternal  Poles !  these  same  Trades  that 
so  directly  blow  my  good  ship  on;  these  Trades,  or  some- 
thing like  them — something  so  unchangeable,  and  full  as 
strong,  blow  my  keeled  soul  along !  To  it !  Aloft  there ! 
What  d'ye  see?" 

"Nothing,  sir." 

"Nothing!  and  noon  at  hand!  The  doubloon  goes 
a-begging !  See  the  sun !  Aye,  aye,  it  must  be  so.  I've 
oversailed  him.  How,  got  the  start?  Aye,  he's  chas- 
ing me  now;  not  I,  him — that's  bad;  I  might  have  known 
it,  too.  Fool !  the  lines — the  harpoons  he's  towing.  Aye, 
aye,  I  have  run  him  by  last  night.  About !  about !  Come 
down,  all  of  ye,  but  the  regular  lookouts!  Man  the 
braces!" 

Steering  as  she  had  done,  the  wind  had  been  some- 
what on  the  Pequod's  quarter,  so  that  now  being  pointed 
in  the  reverse  direction,  the  braced  ship  sailed  hard  upon 
the  breeze  as  she  rechurned  the  cream  in  her  own  white 
wake. 

"Against  the  wind  he  now  steers  for  the  open  jaw," 
murmured  Starbuck  to  himself,  as  he  coiled  the  new- 
hauled  mainbrace  upon  the  rail.  "God  keep  us,  but  al- 
ready my  bones  feel  damp  within  me,  and  from  the  in- 
side wet  my  flesh.  I  misdoubt  me  that  I  disobey  by  God 
in  obeying  him!" 

"Stand  by  to  sway  me  up !"  cried  Ahab,  advancing  to 
the  hempen  basket.  "We  should  meet  him  soon." 

"Aye,  aye,  sir,"  and  straightway  Starbuck  did  Ahab's 
bidding,  and  once  more  Ahab  swung  on  high. 

A  whole  hour  now  passed;  gold-beaten  out  to  ages. 
Time  itself  now  held  long  breaths  with  keen  suspense. 
But  at  last,  some  three  points  off  the  weather  bow,  Ahab 
descried  the  spout  again,  and  instantly  from  the  three 


CAPTURE  GREAT  WHITE  WHALE      169 


mast-heads  three  shrieks  went  up  as  if  the  tongues  of  fire 
had  voiced  it. 

"Forehead  to  forehead  I  meet  thee,  this  third  time, 
Moby  Dick !  On  deck  there  I — brace  sharper  up ;  crowd 
her  into  the  wind's  eye.  He's  too  far  off  to  lower  yet, 
Mr.  Starbuck.  The  sails  shake !  Stand  over  that  helms- 
man with  a  top-maul !  So,  so ;  he  travels  fast,  and  I  must 
down.  But  let  me  have  one  more  good  round  look  aloft 
here  at  the  sea;  there's  time  for  that.  An  old,  old  sight, 
and  yet  somehow  so  young;  aye,  and  not  changed  a  wink 
since  I  first  saw  it,  a  boy,  from  the  sand-hills  of  Nan- 
tucket!  The  same! — the  same! — the  same  to  Noah  as 
to  me.  There's  a  soft  shower  to  leeward.  Such  lovely 
leewardings!  They  must  lead  somewhere — to  some- 
thing else  than  common  land,  more  palmy  than  the  palms. 
Leeward!  the  white  whale  goes  that  way;  look  to  wind- 
ward, then;  the  better  if  the  bitterer  quarter.  But  good 
bye,  good  bye,  old  mast-head!  What's  this? — green? 
aye,  tiny  mosses  in  these  warped  cracks.  No  such  green 
weather  stains  on  Ahab's  head!  There's  the  difference 
now  between  man's  old  age  and  matter's.  But  aye,  old 
mast,  we  both  grow  old  together;  sound  in  our  hulls, 
though,  are  we  not  my  ship  ?  Aye,  minus  a  leg,  that's  all. 
By  heaven  this  dead  wood  has  the  better  of  my  live  flesh 
every  way.  I  can't  compare  with  it;  and  I've  known 
some  ships  made  of  dead  trees  outlast  the  lives  of  men 
made  of  the  most  vital  stuff  of  vital  fathers.  What's  that 
he  said?  he  should  still  go  before  me,  my  pilot;  and  yet 
to  be  seen  again?  But  where?  Will  I  have  eyes  at  the 
bottom  of  the  sea,  supposing  I  descend  those  endless 
stairs?  and  all  night  I've  been  sailing  from  him,  wher- 
ever he  did  sink  to.  Aye,  aye,  like  many  more  thou 
told'st  direful  truth  as  touching  thyself,  O  Parsee;  but, 
Ahab,  there  thy  shot  fell  short.  Good  by,  mast-head — 
keep  a  good  eye  upon  the  whale,  the  while  I'm  gone. 


170  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

We'll  talk  to-morrow,  nay,  to-night,  when  the  white  whale 
lies  down  there,  tied  by  head  and  tail." 

He  gave  the  word!  and  still  gazing  round  him,  was 
steadily  lowered  through  the  cloven  blue  air  to  the  deck. 

In  due  time  the  boats  were  lowered;  but  as  standing 
in  his  shallop's  stern,  Ahab  just  hovered  upon  the  point 
of  the  descent,  he  waved  to  the  mate, — who  held  one  of 
the  tackle-ropes  on  deck — and  bade  him  pause. 

"Starbuck!" 

"Sir?" 

"For  the  third  time  my  soul's  ship  starts  upon  this  voy- 
age, Starbuck." 

"Aye,  sir,  thou  wilt  have  it  so." 

"Some  ships  sail  from  their  ports,  and  ever  afterwards 
are  missing,  Starbuck!" 

"Truth,  sir:  saddest  truth." 

"Some  men  die  at  ebb  tide;  some  at  low  water;  some 
at  the  full  of  the  flood; — and  I  feel  now  like  a  billow 
that's  all  one  crested  comb,  Starbuck.  I  am  old; — shake 
hands  with  me,  man." 

Their  hands  met;  their  eyes  fastened;  Starbuck's  tears 
the  glue. 

"Oh,  my  captain,  my  captain! — noble  heart — go  not — 
go  not! — see,  it's  a  brave  man  that  weeps;  how  great  the 
agony  of  the  persuasion  then!" 

"Lower  away!" — cried  Ahab,  tossing  the  mate's  arm 
from  him.  "Stand  by  the  crew!" 

In  an  instant  the  boat  was  pulling  round  close  under 
the  stern. 

"The  sharks!  the  sharks!"  cried  a  voice  from  the  low 
cabin-window  there;  "O  master,  my  master,  come  back!" 

But  Ahab  heard  nothing;  for  his  own  voice  was  high- 
lifted  then;  and  the  boat  leaped  on. 

Yet  the  voice  spake  true;  for  scarce  had  he  pushed 
from  the  ship,  when  numbers  of  sharks,  seemingly  rising 


CAPTURE  GREAT  WHITE  WHALE      171 

from  out  the  dark  waters  beneath  the  hull,  maliciously 
snapped  at  the  blades  of  the  oars,  every  time  they  dipped 
in  the  water ;  and  in  this  way  accompanied  the  boat  with 
their  bites.  It  is  a  thing  not  uncommonly  happening  to 
the  whale-boats  in  those  swarming  seas;  the  sharks  at 
times  apparently  following  them  in  the  same  prescient 
way  that  vultures  hover  over  the  banners  of  marching 
regiments  in  the  east.  But  these  were  the  first  sharks 
that  had  been  observed  by  the  Pequod  since  the  White 
Whale  had  been  first  descried;  and  whether  it  was  that 
Ahab's  crew  were  all  such  tiger-yellow  barbarians,  and 
therefore  their  flesh  more  musky  to  the  senses  of  the 
sharks — a  matter  sometimes  well  known  to  affect  them, 
however  it  was,  they  seemed  to  follow  that  one  boat  with- 
out molesting  the  others. 

"Heart  of  wrought  steel !"  murmured  Starbuck,  gazing 
over  the  side  and  following  with  his  eyes  the  receding 
boat — ucanst  thou  yet  ring  boldly  to  that  sight? — lower- 
ing thy  keel  among  ravening  sharks,  and  followed  by 
them,  open-mouthed  to  the  chase;  and  this  the  critical 
third  day? — For  when  three  days  flow  together  in  one 
continuous  intense  pursuit;  be  sure  the  first  is  the  morn- 
ing, the  second  the  noon,  and  the  third  the  evening  and 
the  end  of  that  thing — be  that  end  what  it  may.  Oh !  my 
God!  what  is  this  that  shoots  through  me,  and  leaves  me 
so  deadly  calm,  yet  expectant, — fixed  at  the  top  of  a  shud- 
der! Future  things  swim  before  me,  as  in  empty  out- 
lines and  skeletons;  all  the  past  is  somehow  grown  dim. 
Mary,  girl!  thou  fadest  in  pale  glories  behind  me;  boy! 
I  seem  to  see  but  thy  eyes  grown  wondrous  blue.  Strang- 
est problems  of  life  seem  clearing;  but  clouds  sweep  be- 
tween— Is  my  journey's  end  coming ?  My  legs  feel  faint ; 
like  his  who  has  footed  it  all  day.  Feel  thy  heart, — beats 
it  yet? — Stir  thyself,  Starbuck! — stave  it  off — move, 
move !  speak  aloud ! — Mast-head  there.  See  ye  my  boy's 


172  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

hand  on  the  hill? — Crazed; — aloft  there! — keep  thy 
keenest  eye  upon  the  boats: — mark  well  the  whale!— 
Ho !  again ! — drive  off  that  hawk !  see !  he  pecks — he 
tears  the  vane" — pointing  to  the  red  flag  flying  at  the 
main-truck — "Ha !  he  soars  away  with  it ! — Where's  the 
old  man  now?  sees't  thou  that  sight,  oh  Ahab ! — shudder, 
shudder!" 

The  boats  had  not  gone  very  far,  when  by  a  signal 
from  the  mast-heads — a  downward  pointed  arm,  Ahab 
knew  that  the  whale  had  sounded;  but  intending  to  be 
near  him  at  the  next  rising,  he  held  on  his  way  a  little 
sideways  from  the  vessel;  the  becharmed  crew  maintain- 
ing the  profoundest  silence,  as  the  head-beat  waves  ham- 
mered and  hammered  against  the  opposing  bow. 

"Drive,  drive  in  your  nails,  oh  ye  waves!  to  their  utter- 
most heads  drive  them  in !  ye  but  strike  a  thing  without  a 
lid;  and  no  coffin  and  no  hearse  can  be  mine: — and  hemp 
only  can  kill  me !  Ha !  ha !" 

Suddenly  the  waters  around  them  slowly  swelled  in 
broad  circles;  then  quickly  upheaved,  as  if  sideways  slid- 
ing from  a  submerged  berg  of  ice,  swiftly  rising  to  the 
surface.  A  low  rumbling  sound  was  heard;  a  subterra- 
neous hum;  and  then  all  held  their  breaths;  as  bedraggled 
with  trailing  ropes,  and  harpoons,  and  lances,  a  vast  form 
shot  lengthwise,  but  obliquely  from  the  sea.  Shrouded  in 
a  thin  drooping  veil  of  mist,  it  hovered  for  a  moment  in 
the  rainbowed  air;  and  then  fell  swamping  back  into  the 
deep.  Crushed  thirty  feet  upwards,  the  waters  flashed 
for  an  instant  like  heaps  of  fountains,  then  brokenly  sank 
in  a  shower  of  flakes,  leaving  the  circling  surface  creamed 
like  new  milk  round  the  marble  trunk  of  the  whale. 

"Give  way!"  cried  Ahab  to  the  oarsmen,  and  the  boats 
darted  forward  to  the  attack;  but  maddened  by  yester- 
day's fresh  irons  that  corroded  in  him,  Moby  Dick  seemed 
combinedly  possessed  by  all  the  angels  that  fell  from 


CAPTURE  GREAT  WHITE  WHALE      173 

heaven.  The  wide  tiers  of  welded  tendons  overspread- 
ing his  broad  white  forehead,  beneath  the  transparent 
skin,  looked  knitted  together ;  as  head  on,  he  came  churn- 
ing his  tail  among  the  boats;  and  once  more  flailed  them 
apart;  spilling  out  the  irons  and  lances  from  the  two 
mates'  boats,  and  dashing  in  one  side  of  the  upper  part 
of  their  bows,  but  leaving  Ahab's  almost  without  a  scar. 

While  Daggoo  and  Queequeg  were  stopping  the 
strained  planks;  and  as  the  whale  swimming  out  from 
them,  turned,  and  showed  one  entire  flank  as  he  shot  by 
them  again ;  at  that  moment  a  quick  cry  went  up.  Lashed 
round  and  round  to  the  fish's  back;  pinioned  in  the  turns 
upon  turns  in  which,  during  the  past  night,  the  whale  had 
reeled  the  involutions  of  the  lines  around  him,  the  half 
torn  body  of  the  Parsee  was  seen ;  his  sable  raiment  frayed 
to  shreds;  his  distended  eyes  turned  full  upon  old  Ahab. 

The  harpoon  dropped  from  his  hand. 

"Befooled,  befooled!" — drawing  in  a  long  lean  breath 
— uAye,  Parsee !  I  see  thee  again. — Aye,  and  thou  goest 
before;  and  this,  this  then  is  the  hearse  that  thou  didst 
promise.  But  I  hold  thee  to  the  last  letter  of  thy  word. 
Where  is  the  second  hearse?  Away,  mates,  to  the  ship! 
those  boats  are  useless  now;  repair  them  if  ye  can  in  time, 
and  return  to  me;  if  not,  Ahab  is  enough  to  die — Down, 
men !  the  first  thing  that  but  offers  to  jump  from  this  boat 
I  stand  in,  that  thing  I  harpoon.  Ye  are  not  other  men, 
but  my  arms  and  my  legs ;  and  so  obey  me. — Where's  the 
whale?  gone  down  again?" 

But  he  looked  too  nigh  the  boat;  for  as  if  bent  upon 
escaping  with  the  corpse  he  bore,  and  as  if  the  particular 
place  of  the  last  encounter  had  been  but  a  stage  in  his 
leeward  voyage,  Moby  Dick  was  now  again  steadily  swim- 
ming forward;  and  had  almost  passed  the  ship, — which 
thus  far  had  been  sailing  in  the  contrary  direction  to  him, 
though  for  the  present  her  headway  had  been  stopped. 


174  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

He  seemed  swimming  with  his  utmost  velocity,  and  now 
only  intent  upon  pursuing  his  own  straight  path  in  the  sea. 

"Oh!  Ahab,"  cried  Starbuck,  unot  too  late  is  it,  even 
now,  the  third  day,  to  desist.  See!  Moby  Dick  seeks 
thee  not.  It  is  thou,  thou,  that  madly  seekest  him !" 

Setting  sail  to  the  rising  wind,  the  lonely  boat  was, 
swiftly  impelled  to  leeward,  by  both  oars  and  canvas. 
And  at  last  when  Ahab  was  sliding  by  the  vessel,  so  near 
as  plainly  to  distinguish  Starbuck's  face  as  he  leaned  over 
the  rail,  he  hailed  him  to  turn  the  vessel  about,  and  follow 
him,  not  too  swiftly,  at  a  judicious  interval.  Glancing 
upwards,  he  saw  Tashtego,  Queequeg,  and  Daggoo, 
eagerly  mounting  to  the  three  mast-heads ;  while  the  oars- 
men were  rocking  in  the  two  staved  boats  which  had  but 
just  been  hoisted  to  the  side,  and  were  busily  at  work  in 
repairing  them.  One  after  the  other,  through  the  port- 
holes, as  he  sped,  he  also  caught  flying  glimpses  of  Stubb 
and  Flack,  busying  themselves  on  deck  among  bundles  of 
new  irons  and  lances.  As  he  saw  all  this ;  as  he  heard  the 
hammers  in  the  broken  boats !  far  other  hammers  seemed 
driving  a  nail  into  his  heart.  But  he  rallied.  And  now 
marking  that  the  vane  or  flag  was  gone  from  the  main- 
mast-head, he  shouted  to  Tashtego,  who  had  just  gained 
that  perch,  to  descend  again  for  another  flag,  and  a  ham- 
mer and  nails,  and  so  nail  it  to  the  mast. 

Whether  fagged  by  the  three  days'  running  chase,  and 
the  resistance  to  his  swimming  in  the  knotted  hamper  he 
bore;  or  whether  it  was  some  latent  deceitfulness  and 
malice  in  him:  whichever  was  true,  the  White  Whale's 
way  now  began  to  abate,  as  it  seemed,  from  the  boat  so 
rapidly  nearing  him  once  more ;  though  indeed  the  whale's 
last  start  had  not  been  so  long  a  one  as  before.  And 
still  as  Ahab  glided  over  the  waves  the  unpitying  sharks  ac- 
companied him;  and  so  pertinaciously  stuck  to  the  boat; 
and  so  continually  bit  at  the  plying  oars,  that  the  blades 


CAPTURE  GREAT  WHITE  WHALE      175 


ecame  jagged  and  crunched,  and  left  small  splinters  in 
the  sea,  at  almost  every  dip. 

"Heed  them  not!  those  teeth  but  give  new  rowlocks 
to  your  oars.  Pull  on !  'tis  the  better  rest,  the  shark's 
jaw  than  the  yielding  water." 

"But  at  every  bite,  sir,  the  thin  blades  grow  smaller  and 
smaller!" 

"They  will  last  long  enough!  pull  on! — But  who  can 
tell" — he  muttered — "whether  these  sharks  swim  to  feast 
on  the  whale  or  on  Ahab? — But  pull  on !  Aye,  all  alive, 
now — we  near  him.  The  helm!  take  the  helm;  let  me 
pass," — and  so  saying,  two  of  the  oarsmen  helped  him  for- 
ward to  the  bows  of  the  still  flying  boat. 

At  length  as  the  craft  was  cast  to  one  side,  and  ran 
ranging  along  with  the  White  Whale's  flank,  he  seemed 
strangely  oblivious  of  its  advance — as  the  whale  some- 
times will — and  Ahab  was  fairly  within  the  smoky  moun- 
tain mist,  which,  thrown  off  from  the  whale's  spout,  curled 
round  his  great,  Monadnock  rump ;  he  was  even  thus  close 
to  him;  when,  with  body  arched  back,  and  both  arms 
lengthwise  high-lifted  to  the  poise,  he  darted  his  fierce 
iron,  and  his  far  fiercer  curse  into  the  hated  whale.  As 
both  steel  and  curse  sank  to  the  socket,  as  if  sucked  into  a 
morass,  Moby  Dick  sideways  writhed;  spasmodically 
rolled  his  nigh  flank  against  the  bow,  and,  without  stav- 
ing a  hole  in  it,  so  suddenly  canted  the  boat  over,  that 
had  it  not  been  for  the  elevated  part  of  the  gunwale  to 
which  he  then  clung,  Ahab  would  once  more  have  been 
tossed  into  the  sea.  As  it  was,  three  of  the  oarsmen — 
who  foreknew  not  the  precise  instant  of  the  dart,  and 
were  therefore  unprepared  for  its  effects — these  were 
flung  out;  but  so  fell,  that,  in  an  instant  two  of  them 
clutched  the  gunwale  again,  and  rising  to  its  level  on  a 
combining  wave,  hurled  themselves  bodily  inboard  again ; 


176  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

the  third  man  helplessly  dropping  astern,  but  still  afloat 
and  swimming. 

Almost  simultaneously,  with  a  mighty  volition  of  un- 
graduated,  instantaneous  swiftness,  the  White  Whale 
darted  through  the  weltering  sea.  But  when  Ahab  cried 
out  to  the  steersman  to  take  new  turns  with  the  line,  and 
hold  it  so;  and  commanded  the  crew  to  turn  round  on 
their  seats,  and  tow  the  boat  up  to  the  mark;  the  moment 
the  treacherous  line  felt  that  double  strain  and  tug,  it 
snapped  in  the  empty  air! 

"What  breaks  in  me  ?  Some  sinew  cracks ! — 'tis  whole 
again;  oars!  oars!  Burst  in  upon  him!" 

Hearing  the  tremendous  rush  of  the  sea-crashing  boat, 
the  whale  wheeled  round  to  present  his  blank  forehead 
at  bay;  but  in  that  evolution,  catching  sight  of  the  near- 
ing  black  hull  of  the  ship ;  seemingly  seeing  in  it  the  source 
of  all  his  persecutions;  bethinking  it — it  may  be — a  larger 
and  nobler  foe;  of  a  sudden,  he  bore  down  upon  its  ad- 
vancing prow,  smiting  his  jaws  amid  fiery  showers  of 
foam. 

Ahab  staggered;  his  hand  smote  his  forehead.  "I 
grow  blind;  hands!  stretch  out  before  me  that  I  may  yet 
grope  my  way.  Is't  night?" 

"The  whale !     The  ship !"  cried  the  cringing  oarsmen. 

"Oars!  oars!  Slope  downwards  to  thy  depths,  O  sea, 
that  ere  it  be  forever  too  late,  Ahab  may  slide  this  last, 
last  time  upon  his  mark!  I  see:  the  ship!  the  ship! 
Dash  on,  my  men!  Will  ye  not  save  my  ship?" 

But  as  the  oarsmen  violently  forced  their  boat  through 
the  sledge-hammering  seas,  the  before  whale-smitten  bow- 
ends  of  two  planks  burst  through,  and  in  an  instant  al- 
most, the  temporarily  disabled  boat  lay  nearly  level  with 
the  waves;  its  halfwading,  splashing  crew,  trying  hard 
to  stop  the  gap  and  bale  out  the  pouring  water. 

Meantime,  for  that  one  beholding  instant,  Tashtego's 


CAPTURE  GREAT  WHITE  WHALE      177 

mast-head  hammer  remained  suspended  in  his  hand;  and 
the  red  flag,  half-wrapping  him  as  with  a  plaid,  then 
streamed  itself  straight  out  from  him,  as  his  own  for- 
ward-flowing heart;  while  Starbuck  and  Stubb,  standing 
upon  the  bowsprit  beneath,  caught  sight  of  the  down- 
coming  monster  just  as  soon  as  he. 

"The  whale,  the  whale !  Up  helm,  up  helm !  Oh,  all 
ye  sweet  powers  of  air,  now  hug  me  close!  Let  not 
Starbuck  die,  if  die  he  must,  in  a  woman's  fainting  fit. 
Up  helm,  I  say — ye  fools,  the  jaw!  the  jaw!  Is  this  the 
end  of  all  my  bursting  prayers?  all  my  life-long  fidelities? 
Oh,  Ahab,  Ahab,  lo,  thy  work.  Steady!  helmsman, 
steady.  Nay,  nay!  Up  helm  again!  He  turns  to  meet 
us !  Oh,  his  unappeasable  brow  drives  on  towards  one, 
whose  duty  tells  him  he  cannot  depart.  My  God,  stand 
by  me  now!" 

"Stand  not  by  me,  but  stand  under  me,  whoever  you 
are  that  will  now  help  Stubb ;  for  Stubb,  too,  sticks  here. 
I  grin  at  thee,  thou  grinning  whale !  Who  ever  helped 
Stubb,  or  kept  Stubb  awake,  but  Stubb's  own  unwinking 
eye?  And  now  poor  Stubb  goes  to  bed  upon  a  mattress 
that  is  all  too  soft;  would  it  were  stuffed  with  brushwood ! 
I  grin  at  thee,  thou  grinning  whale !  Look  ye,  sun,  moon, 
and  stars  I  I  call  ye  assassins  of  as  good  a  fellow  as  ever 
spouted  up  his  ghost.  For  all  that,  I  would  yet  ring 
glasses  with  ye,  would  ye  but  hand  the  cup !  Oh,  oh ! 
oh,  oh!  thou  grinning  whale,  but  there'll  be  plenty  of 
gulping  soon!  Why  fly  ye  not,  O  Ahab!  For  me,  off 
shoes  and  jacket  to  it;  let  Stubb  die  in  his  drawers!  A 
most  mouldy  and  over-salted  death,  though; — cherries! 
cherries!  cherries!  Oh,  Flask,  for  one  red  cherry  ere 
we  die!" 

"Cherries?  I  only  wish  that  we  were  where  they 
grow.  Oh,  Stubb,  I  hope  my  poor  mother's  drawn  my 


178  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

part-pay  ere  this;  if  not,  few  coppers  will  now  come  to 
her,  for  the  voyage  is  up." 

From  the  ship's  bows,  nearly  all  the  seamen  now  hung 
inactive;  hammers,  bits  of  plank,  lances,  and  harpoons, 
mechanically  retained  in  their  hands,  just  as  they  had 
darted  from  their  various  employments;  all  their  en- 
chanted eyes  intent  upon  the  whale,  which  from  side  to 
side  strangely  vibrating  his  predestinating  head,  sent  a 
broad  band  of  overspreading  semicircular  foam  before 
him  as  he  rushed.  Retribution,  swift  vengeance,  eternal 
malice  were  in  his  whole  aspect,  and  spite  of  all  that 
mortal  man  could  do,  the  solid  white  buttress  of  his  fore- 
head smote  the  ship's  starboard  bow,  till  men  and 
timbers  reeled.  Some  fell  flat  upon  their  faces.  Like 
dislodged  trucks,  the  heads  of  the  harpooners  aloft  shook 
on  their  bull-like  necks.  Through  the  breach,  they  heard 
the  waters  pour,  as  mountain  torrents  down  a  flume. 

"The  ship  !  The  hearse ! — the  second  hearse !"  cried 
Ahab  from  the  boat;  "its  wood  could  only  be  American !" 

Diving  beneath  the  settling  ship,  the  whale  ran  quiver- 
ing along  its  keel;  but  turning  under  water,  swiftly  shot 
to  the  surface  again,  far  off  the  other  bow,  but  within 
a  few  yards  of  Ahab's  boat,  where,  for  a  time,  he  lay 
quiescent. 

"I  turn  my  body  from  the  sun.  What  ho,  Tashtego ! 
let  me  hear  thy  hammer.  Oh!  ye  three  unsurrendered 
spires  of  mine ;  thou  uncracked  keel ;  and  only  god-bullied 
hull ;  thou  firm  deck,  and  haughty  helm,  and  Pole-pointed 
prow, — death-glorious  ship !  must  ye  then  perish,  and 
without  me?  Am  I  cut  off  from  the  last  fond  pride  of 
meanest  shipwrecked  captains?  Oh,  lonely  death  on 
lonely  life!  Oh,  now  I  feel  my  topmost  greatness  lies 
in  my  topmost  grief.  Ho,  ho!  from  all  your  furthest 
bounds,  pour  ye  now  in,  ye  bold  billows  of  my  whole  fore- 
gone life,  and  top  this  one  piled  comber  of  my  death! 


CAPTURE  GREAT  WHITE  WHALE      179 

Towards  thee  I  roll,  thou  all-destroying  but  unconquering 
whale;  to  the  last  I  grapple  with  thee;  from  hell's  heart 
I  stab  at  thee;  for  hate's  sake  I  spit  my  last  breath  at 
thee.  Sink  all  coffins  and  all  hearses  to  one  common  pool ! 
and  since  neither  can  be  mine,  let  me  then  tow  to  pieces, 
while  still  chasing  thee,  though  tied  to  thee,  thou  damned 
whale !  Thus,  I  give  up  the  spear !" 

The  harpoon  was  darted;  the  stricken  whale  flew  for- 
ward; with  igniting  velocity  the  line  ran  through  the 
groove; — ran  foul.  Ahab  stooped  to  clear  it;  he  did 
clear  it !  but  the  flying  turn  caught  him  round  the  neck, 
and  voicelessly  as  Turkish  mutes  bowstring  their  victim, 
he  was  shot  out  of  the  boat,  ere  the  crew  knew  he  was 
gone.  Next  instant,  the  heavy  eye-splice  in  the  rope's 
final  end  flew  out  of  the  stark-empty  tub,  knocked  down 
an  oarsmen,  and  smiting  the  sea,  disappeared  in  its  depths. 

For  an  instant,  the  tranced  boat's  crew  stood  still; 
then  turned.  "The  ship  !  Great  God,  where  is  the  ship  ?" 
>oon  they  through  dim,  bewildering  mediums  saw  her 
jidelong  fading  phantom,  as  in  the  gaseous  Fata  Mor- 
lana;  only  the  uppermost  masts  out  of  water;  while  fixed 
>y  infatuation,  or  fidelity,  or  fate,  to  their  once  lofty 
perches,  the  pagan  harpooners  still  maintained  their  sink- 
ing lookouts  on  the  sea.  And  now,  concentric  circles 
seized  the  lone  boat  itself,  and  all  its  crew,  and  each  float- 
ing oar,  and  every  lance-pole,  and  spinning,  animate  and 
inanimate,  all  round  and  round  in  one  vortex,  carried  the 
smallest  chip  of  the  Pequod  out  of  sight. 

But  as  the  last  whelmings  intermixingly  poured  them- 
selves over  the  sunken  head  of  the  Indian  at  the  main- 
mast, leaving  a  few  inches  of  the  erect  spar  yet  visible, 
togethep  with  long  streaming  yards  of  the  flag,  which 
calmly  undulated,  with  ironical  coincidings,  over  the  de- 
stroying billows  they  almost  touched; — at  that  instant,  a 
red  arm  and  a  hammer  hovered  backwardly  uplifted  in 


180 


GREAT  SEA  STORIES 


the  open  air,  in  the  act  of  nailing  the  flag  faster  and  yet 
faster  to  the  subsiding  spar.    A  sky-hawk  that  tauntingly 
had  followed  the  main-truck  downwards  from  its  natural 
home  among  the  stars,  pecking  at  the  flag,  and  incommod- 
ing Tashtego  there;  this  bird  now  chanced  to  intercept  its 
broad  fluttering  wing  between  the  hammer  and  the  wood; 
and  simultaneously  feeling  that  ethereal  thrill,  the  sub- 
merged savage  beneath,  in  his  death-gasp,  kept  his  ham- 
mer frozen  there;  and  so  the  bird  of  heaven,  with  arch- 
angelic  shrieks,  and  his  imperial  beak  thrust  upwards,  an< 
his  whole  captive  form  folded  in  the  flag  of  Ahab,  went 
down  with  his  ship,  which,  like  Satan,  would  not  sink  t( 
hell  till  she  had  dragged  a  living  part  of  heaven  alonj 
with  her,  and  helmeted  herself  with  it. 

Now  small  fowls  flew  screaming  over  the  yet  yawning 
gulf;  a  sullen  white  surf  beat  against  its  steep  sides;  thei 
all  collapsed,  and  the  great  shroud  of  the  sea  rolled  01 
as  it  rolled  five  thousand  years  ago. 


THE  CORVETTE  CLAYMORE 
From  "Ninety-three,"  BY  VICTOR  HUGO 

THE  corvette,  instead  of  sailing  south,  in  the  direc- 
tion of  St.  Catherine,  headed  to  the  north,  then, 
veering  towards  the  west,  had  boldly  entered  that 
arm  of  the  sea  between  Sark  and  Jersey  called  the  Pas- 
sage of  the  Deroute.  There  was  then  no  lighthouse  at 
any  point  on  either  coast.  It  had  been  a  clear  sunset; 
the  night  was  darker  than  summer  nights  usually  are;  it 
was  moonlight,  but  large  clouds,  rather  of  the  equinox 
than  of  the  solstice  overspread  the  sky,  and,  judging  by 
appearances,  the  moon  would  not  be  visible  until  she 
reached  the  horizon  at  the  moment  of  setting.  A  few 
clouds  hung  low  near  the  surface  of  the  sea  and  covered 
it  with  vapor. 

All  this  darkness  was  favorable.  Gacquoil,  the  pilot, 
intended  to  leave  Jersey  on  the  left,  Guernsey  on  the  right, 
and  by  boldly  sailing  between  Hanois  and  Dover,  to 
reach  some  bay  on  the  coast  near  St.  Malo,  a  longer 
but  safer  route  than  the  one  through  Minquiers;  for  the 
French  coaster  had  standing  orders  to  keep  an  unusually 
sharp  lookout  between  St.  Helier  and  Granville. 

If  the  wind  were  favorable,  and  nothing  happened,  by 
dint  of  setting  all  sail  Gacquoil  hoped  to  reach  the  coast 
of  France  at  daybreak. 

All  went  well.  The  corvette  had  just  passed  Gros  Nez. 
Towards  nine  o'clock  the  weather  looked  sullen,  as  the 
sailors  express  it,  both  wind  and  sea  rising;  but  the  wind 
was  favorable,  and  the  sea  was  rough,  yet  not  heavy, 
the  waves  now  and  then  dashing  over  the  bow  of  the 
corvette.  "The  peasant"  whom  Lord  Balcarras  had 

181 


182  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

called  general,  and  whom  the  Prince  de  La  Tour  d'Au- 
vergne  had  addressed  as  cousin,  was  a  good  sailor,  and 
paced  the  deck  of  the  corvette  with  calm  dignity.  He 
did  not  seem  to  notice  that  she  rocked  considerably. 
From  time  to  time  he  took  out  of  his  waistcoat  pocket 
a  cake  of  chocolate,  and  breaking  off  a  piece,  munched 
it.  Though  his  hair  was  gray,  his  teeth  were  sound. 

He  spoke  to  no  one,  except  that  from  time  to  time 
he  made  a  few  concise  remarks  in  an  undertone  to  the 
captain,  who  listened  to  him  deferentially,  apparently 
regarding  his  passenger  as  the  commander,  rather  than 
himself.  Unobserved  in  the  fog,  and  skilfully  piloted, 
the  Claymore  coasted  along  the  steep  shore  to  the 
north  of  Jersey,  hugging  the  land  to  avoid  the  formid- 
able reef  of  Pierres-de-Leeq,  which  lies  in  the  middle 
of  the  strait  between  Jersey  and  Sark.  Gacquoil,  at 
the  helm,  sighting  in  turn  Greve  de  Leeq,  Gros  Nez, 
and  Plermont,  making  the  corvette  glide  in  among  those 
chains  of  reefs,  felt  his  way  along  to  a  certain  extent 
but  with  the  self-confidence  of  one  familiar  with  the 
ways  of  the  sea. 

The  corvette  had  no  light  forward,  fearing  to  betray 
its  passage  through  these  guarded  waters.  They  con- 
gratulated themselves  on  the  fog.  The  Grande  Etape 
was  reached;  the  mist  was  so  dense  that  the  lofty  out- 
lines of  the  Pinnacle  were  scarcely  visible.  They  heard 
it  strike  ten  from  the  belfry  of  Saint-Ouen,  — a  sign 
that  the  wind  was  still  aft.  All  was  going  well;  the 
sea  grew  rougher,  because  they  were  drawing  near  La  Cor- 
biere. 

A  little  after  ten,  the  Count  Boisberthelot  and  the 
Chevalier  de  la  Vieuville  escorted  the  man  in  the  peas- 
ant garb  to  the  door  of  his  cabin,  which  was  the  cap- 
tain's own  room.  As  he  was  about  to  enter,  he  re- 
marked, lowering  his  voice : — 


THE  CORVETTE  CLAYMORE  183 

"You  understand  the  importance  of  keeping  the  se- 
cret, gentlemen.  Silence  up  to  the  moment  of  explo- 
sion. You  are  the  only  ones  here  who  know  my  name." 

"We  will  carry  it  to  the  grave,"  replied  Boisberthe- 
lot. 

"And  for  my  part,  I  would  not  reveal  it  were  I  face 
to  face  with  death,"  remarked  the  old  man. 

And  he  entered  his  stateroom. 

The  commander  and  the  first  officer  returned  on 
deck,  and  began  to  pace  up  and  down  side  by  side,  talk- 
ing as  they  walked.  The  theme  was  evidently  their 
passenger;  and  this  was  the  substance  of  the  conversa- 
tion which  the  wind  wafted  through  the  darkness.  Bois- 
berthelot grumbled  half  audibly  to  La  Vieuville, — 

"It  remains  to  be  seen  whether  or  no  he  is  a  leader." 

La  Vieuville   replied, — 

"Meanwhile  he  is   a  prince." 

"Almost." 

"A  nobleman  in  France,  but  a  prince  in  Brittany." 

"Like  the  Tremouilles  and  the  Rohans." 

"With  whom  he  is  connected." 

Boisberthelot   resumed, — 

"In  France  and  in  the  carriages  of  the  king  he  is  a 
marquis, — as  I  am  a  count,  and  you  a  chevalier." 

"The  carriages  are  far  away!"  exclaimed  Vieuville. 
"We  are  living  in  the  time  of  the  tumbril." 

A  silence  ensued. 

Boisberthelot  went  on, — 

"For  lack  of  a  French  prince  we  take  one  from  Brit- 
tany." 

"For  lack  of  thrushes — No:  since  an  eagle  is  not  to 
be  found,  we  take  a  crow." 
"I   should   prefer   a    vulture,"    remarked    Boisberthelot. 

La  Vieuville  replied, — * 


184  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

"Yes,  indeed,  with  a  beak  and  talons." 

"We   shall   see." 

"Yes,  replied  Vieuville,  "it  is  time  there  was  a  leader. 
I  agree  with  Tinteniac, — a  leader  and  gunpowder!  See 
here,  commander,  I  know  nearly  all  the  possible  and 
impossible  leaders, — those  of  yesterday,  those  of  to- 
day, and  those  of  to-morrow.  Not  one  of  them  has  the 
head  required  for  war.  In  this  cursed  Vendee  a  gen- 
eral is  needed  who  would  be  a  lawyer  as  well  as  a  leader. 
He  must  harass  the  enemy,  dispute  every  bush, 
ditch,  and  stone;  he  must  force  unlucky  quarrels  upon 
him,  and  take  advantage  of  everything;  vigilant  and 
pitiless,  he  must  watch  incessantly,  slaughter  freely,  and 
make  examples.  Now,  in  this  army  of  peasants  there 
are  heroes,  but  no  captains.  D'Elbee  is  a  nonentity, 
Lescure  an  invalid;  Bonchamps  is  merciful, — he  is 
kind,  and  that  implies  folly;  La  Rochejaquelein  is  a  su- 
perb sub-lieutenant;  Silz  is  an  officer  good  for  the  open 
field,  but  not  suited  for  a  war  that  needs  a  man  of  ex- 
pedients; Cathelineau  is  a  simple  teamster;  Stofflet  is  a 
crafty  game-keeper;  Berard  is  inefficient;  Boulainvillers 
is  absurd;  Charette  is  horrible.  I  make  no  mention  of 
Gaston  the  barber.  Mordemonbleu !  what  is  the  use 
of  opposing  revolution,  and  what  is  the  difference  be- 
tween ourselves  and  the  republicans,  if  we  set  barbers 
over  the  heads  of  noblemen!  The  fact  is,  that  this 
beastly  revolution  has  contaminated  all  of  us." 

"It  is  the  itch  of  France." 

"It  is  the  itch  of  the  Tiers  etat,"  rejoined  Boisberthe- 
lot.  "England  alone  can  help  us." 

"And  she  will,  captain,  undoubtedly." 

"Meanwhile  it  is  an  ugly  state  of  affairs." 

"Yes, — rustics  everywhere.  A  monarchy  that  has 
Stofflet,  the  game-keeper  of  M.  de  Maulevrier,  for  a 
commander  has  no  reason  to  envy  a  republic  whose 


THE  CORVETTE  CLAYMORE  185 

minister  is  Pache,  the  son  of  the  Duke  de  Castries'  por- 
ter. What  men  this  Vendean  war  brings  face  to  face, 
—on  one  side  Santerre  the  brewer;  on  the  other  Gaston 
the  hairdresser!" 

"My  dear  La  Vieuville,  I  feel  some  respect  for  this 
Gaston.  He  behaved  well  in  his  command  of  Gueme- 
nee.  He  had  three  hundred  Blues  neatly  shot  after 
making  them  dig  their  own  graves." 

"Well  enough  done;  but  I  could  have  done  quite  as 
well  as  he." 

"Pardieu,  to  be  sure;  and  I  too." 

"The  great  feats  of  war,"  said  Vieuville,  "require 
noble  blood  in  those  who  perform  them.  These  are 
matters  for  knights,  and  not  for  hairdressers." 

"But  yet  there  are  estimable  men  in  this  'Third  Es- 
tate,' '  rejoined  Vieuville.  "Take  that  watchmaker, 
Joly,  for  instance.  He  was  formerly  a  sergeant  in  a 
Flanders  regiment;  he  becomes  a  Vendean  chief  and 
commander  of  a  coast  band.  He  has  a  son,  a  republi- 
can ;  and  while  the  father  serves  in  the  ranks  of  the  Whites, 
the  son  serves  in  those  of  the  Blues.  An  encounter,  a 
battle:  the  father  captures  the  son  and  blows  out  his 
brains." 

"He  did  well,"  said  La  Vieuville. 

"A  royalist  Brutus,"  answered  Boisberthelot. 
"Nevertheless,  it  is  unendurable  to  be  under  the  com- 
mand of  a  Coquereau,  a  Jean-Jean,  a  Moulin,  a  Focart, 
a  Bouju,  a  Chouppes!" 

"My  dear  chevalier,  the  opposite  party  is  quite  as 
indignant.  We  are  crowded  with  plebeians;  they  have 
an  excess  of  nobles.  Do  you  think  the  sansculottes  like 
to  be  commanded  by  the  Count  de  Canclaux,  the  Vis- 
count de  Miranda,  the  Viscount  de  Beauharnais,  the 
Count  de  Valence,  the  Marquis  de  Custine,  and  the 
Duke  de  Biron?" 


186  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

"What   a  combination!" 

"And  the  Duke  de  Chartres!" 

"Son  of  Egalite.     By  the  way,  when  will  he  be  king?'* 

"Never!" 

"He  aspires  to  the  throne,  and  his  very  crimes  serve 
to  promote  his  interests." 

"And  his  vices  will  injure  his  cause,"  said  Boisber- 
thelot. 

Then,   after  another  pause,  he  continued, — 

"Nevertheless,  he  was  anxious  to  be  reconciled.  He 
came  to  see  the  king.  I  was  at  Versailles  when  some 
one  spit  on  his  back." 

"From  the  top  of  the  grand  staircase?" 

"Yes." 

"I  am  glad  of  it." 

"We  called  him  Bourbon  le  Bourbeaux." 

"He  is  bald-headed;  he  has  pimples;  he  is  a  regicide. 
Poh!" 

And  La  Vieuville  added : — 

"I  was  with  him  at  Ouessant." 

"On  the  Saint  Esprit?" 

"Yes." 

"Had  he  obeyed  Admiral  d'Orvillier's  signal  to  keep 
to  the  windward,  he  would  have  prevented  the  English 
from  passing." 

"True." 

"Was  he  really  hidden  in  the  bottom  of  the  hold?" 

"No;  but  we  must  say  so  all  the  same." 

And  La  Vieuville  burst  out  laughing. 

Boisberthelot  continued : — 

"Fools  are  plentiful.     Look  here,  I  have  known  this 
Boulainvilliers   of   whom   you   were    speaking;    I   knetl 
him  well.     At  first  the  peasants  were  armed  with  pikes; 
would  you  believe  it,  he  took  it  into  his  head  to  form  j 
them  into  pike-men.     He  wanted  to  drill  them  in  cross-  j 


THE  CORVETTE  CLAYMORE  187 

ing  pikes  and  repelling  a  charge.  He  dreamed  of  trans- 
forming these  barbarians  into  regular  soldiers.  He 
undertook  to  teach  them  how  to  round  in  the  corners 
of  their  squares,  and  to  mass  battalions  with  hollow 
squares.  He  jabbered  the  antiquated  military  dialect 
to  them;  he  called  the  chief  of  a  squad  a  cap  d'escade, 
—which  was  what  corporals  under  Louis  XIV,  were 
called.  He  persisted  in  forming  a  regiment  of  all  those 
poachers.  He  had  regular  companies  whose  sergeants 
ranged  themselves  in  a  circle  every  evening,  and,  re- 
ceiving the  sign  and  countersign  from  the  colonel's  ser- 
geant, repeated  it  in  a  whisper  to  the  lieutenant's  ser- 
geant, who  repeated  it  to  his  next  neighbor,  who  in  his 
turn  transmitted  it  to  the  next  man,  and  so  on  from 
ear  to  ear  until  it  reached  the  last  man.  He  cashiered 
an  officer  for  not  standing  bareheaded  to  receive  the 
watchword  from  the  sergeant.  You  may  imagine  how 
he  succeeded.  This  simpleton  could  not  understand 
that  peasants  have  to  be  led  peasant  fashion,  and  that 
it  is  impossible  to  transform  rustics  into  soldiers.  Yes, 
I  have  known  Boulainvilliers." 

They  walked  along  a  few  steps,  each  one  engrossed 
in  his  own  thoughts. 

Then  the  conversation  was  resumed: — 

"By  the  way,  has  the  report  of  Dampierre's  death 
been  confirmed?" 

"Yes,  commander." 

"Before  Conde?" 

"At  the  camp  of  Pamars;  he  was  hit  by  a  cannon- 
ball." 

Boisberthelot  sighed. 

"Count  Dampierre, — another  of  our  men,  who  took 
sides  with  them." 

"May  he  prosper  wherever  he  may  be!"  said  Vieu- 
Ville. 


188  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

"And  the  ladies, — where  are  they?" 

"At  Trieste." 

"Still  there?" 

"Yes." 

"Ah,  this  republic!"  exclaimed  La  Vieuville.  "What 
havoc  from  so  slight  a  cause !  To  think  that  this  revo- 
lution was  the  result  of  a  deficit  of  only  a  few  millions!" 

"Insignificant  beginnings  are  not  always  to  be  trust- 
ed." 

"Everything  goes  wrong,"  replied  La  Vieuville. 

"Yes;  La  Rouarie  is  dead.  Du  Dresnay  is  an  idiot. 
What  wretched  leaders  are  all  those  bishops, — this 
Coucy,  bishop  of  La  Rochelle;  Beaupoil  Saint-Aulaire, 
bishop  of  Poitiers;  Mercy,  bishop  of  Luzon,  a  lover  of 
Madame  de  1'Eschasserie " 

"Whose  name  is  Servanteau,  you  know,  commander. 
Eschasserie  is  the  name  of  an  estate." 

"And  that  false  bishop  of  Agra,  who  is  a  cure  of  I 
know  not  what !" 

"Of  Dol.  His  name  is  Guillot  de  Folleville.  But 
then  he  is  brave,  and  knows  how  to  fight." 

"Priests  when  one  needs  soldiers!  bishops  who  are 
no  bishops  at  all!  generals  who  are  no  generals!" 

La  Vieuville  interrupted  Boisberthelot. 

"Have  you  the  Moniteur  in  your  stateroom,  com- 
mander?" 

"Yes." 

"What  are  they  giving  now  in  Paris  ?" 

"  'Adele  and  Pauline'  and  'La  Caverne.'  " 

"I  should  like  to  see  that." 

"You  may.    We  shall  be  in  Paris  in  a  month." 

Boisberthelot  thought  a  moment,  and  then  added: 

"At  the  latest, — so  Mr.  Windham  told  Lord  Hood." 

"Then,  commander,  I  take  it  affairs  are  not  going 
so  very  badly?" 


THE  CORVETTE  CLAYMORE          189 

"All  would  go  well,  provided  that  the  Breton  war 
were  well  managed." 

De  Vieuville  shook  his  head. 

"Commander,"  he  said,  "are  we  to  land  the  marines?" 

"Certainly,  if  the  coast  is  friendly,  but  not  otherwise. 
In  some  cases  war  must  force  the  gates;  in  others  it  can 
slip  through  them.  Civil  war  must  always  keep  a  false 
key  in  its  pocket.  We  will  do  all  we  can;  but  one  must 
have  a  chief." 

And   Boisberthelot   added  thoughtfully, — 

"What  do  you  think  of  the  Chevalier  de  Dieuzie,  La 
Vieuville?" 

"Do  you  mean   the   younger?" 

"Yes." 

"For  a  commander?" 

"Yes." 

"He  is  only  good  for  a  pitched  battle  in  the  open 
field.  It  is  only  the  peasant  who  knows  the  under- 
brush." 

"In  that  case,  you  may  as  well  resign  yourself  to 
Generals  Stofflet  and  Cathelineau." 

La  Vieuville  mediated  for  a  moment;  then  he  said, — 

"What  we  need  is  a  prince, — a  French  prince,  a 
prince  of  the  blood,  a  real  prince." 

"How  can  that  be?    He  who  says  'prince' " 

"Says  'coward.'  I  know  it,  commander.  But  we 
need  him  for  the  impression  he  would  produce  upon 
the  herd." 

"My  dear  chevalier,  the  princes  don't  care  to  come." 

"We  will  do  without  them." 

Boisberthelot  pressed  his  hand  mechanically  against 
his  forehead,  as  if  striving  to  evoke  an  idea.  He  re- 
sumed,— 

"Then  let  us  try  this  general." 

"He  is  a  great  nobleman." 


190 


GREAT  SEA  STORIES 


"Do  you  think  he  will  do?" 

"If  he  is  one  of  the  right  sort,"  said  La  Vieuville. 

"You  mean  relentless?"  said  Boisberthelot. 

The  count  and  the  chevalier  looked  at  each  other. 

"Monsieur  Boisberthelot,  you  have  defined  the  mean- 
ing of  the  word.  Relentless, — yes,  that's  what  we 
need.  This  is  a  war  that  shows  no  mercy.  The  blood- 
thirsty are  in  the  ascendant.  The  regicides  have  be- 
headed Louis  XVI ;  we  will  quarter  the  regicides.  Yes, 
the  general  we  need  is  General  Relentless.  In  Anjou 
and  Upper  Poitou  the  leaders  play  the  magnanimous; 
they  trifle  with  generosity,  and  they  are  always  defeated. 
In  the  Marais  and  the  country  of  Retz,  where  the  leaders 
are  ferocious,  everything  goes  bravely  forward.  It  is 
because  Charette  is  fierce  that  he  stands  his  ground 
against  Parrein, — hyena  pitted  against  hyena." 

Boisberthelot  had  no  time  to  answer.  Vieuville's 
words  were  suddenly  cut  short  by  a  desperate  cry,  and 
at  the  same  instant  they  heard  a  noise  unlike  all  other 
sounds.  This  cry  and  the  unusual  sounds  came  from 
the  interior  of  the  vessel. 

The  captain  and  the  lieutenant  rushed  to  the  gun-deck, 
but  were  unable  to  enter.  All  the  gunners  came  running 
up,  beside  themselves  with  terror. 

A  frightful  thing  had  just  happened. 

One  of  the  carronades  of  the  battery,  a  twenty-four 
pound  cannon,  had  become  loose. 

This  is  perhaps  the  most  dreadful  thing  that  can  take 
place  at  sea.  Nothing  more  terrible  can  happen  to  a 
man-of-war  under  full  sail. 

A  cannon  that  breaks  loose  from  its  fastenings  is  sud- 
denly transformed  into  a  supernatural  beast.  It  is  a 
monster  developed  from  a  machine.  This  mass  runs 
along  on  its  wheels  as  easily  as  a  billiard  ball;  it  rolls 
with  the  rolling,  pitches  with  the  pitching,  comes  and 


THE  CORVETTE  CLAYMORE  191 

goes,  stops,  seems  to  meditate,  begins  anew,  darts  like  an 
arrow  from  one  end  of  the  ship  to  the  other,  whirls 
around,  turns  aside,  evades,  rears,  hits  out,  crushes,  kills, 
exterminates.  It  is  a  ram  battering  a  wall  at  its  own 
pleasure.  Moreover,  the  battering-ram  is  iron,  the  wall 
is  wood.  It  is  matter  set  free;  one  might  say  that  this 
eternal  slave  is  wreaking  its  vengeance;  it  would  seem  as 
though  the  evil  in  what  we  call  inanimate  objects  had 
found  vent  and  suddenly  burst  forth;  it  has  the  air  of 
having  lost  its  patience,  and  of  taking  a  mysterious,  dull 
revenge;  nothing  is  so  inexorable  as  the  rage  of  the  in- 
animate. The  mad  mass  leaps  like  a  panther;  it  has 
the  weight  of  an  elephant,  the  agility  of  a  mouse,  the  ob- 
stinacy of  the  axe;  it  takes  one  by  surprise,  like  the 
surge  of  the  sea;  it  flashes  like  lightning;  it  is  deaf  as 
the  tomb;  it  weighs  ten  thousand  pounds,  and  it  bounds 
like  a  child's  ball;  it  whirls  as  it  advances,  and  the  circles 
it  describes  are  intersected  by  right  angles.  And  what 
help  is  there?  How  can  it  be  overcome?  A  calm  suc- 
ceeds the  tempest,  a  cyclone  passes  over,  a  wind  dies 
away,  we  replace  the  broken  mass,  we  check  the  leak, 
we  extinguish  the  fire;  but  what  is  to  be  done  with  this 
enormous  bronze  beast?  How  can  it  be  subdued?  You 
can  reason  with  a  mastiff,  take  a  bull  by  surprise,  fasci- 
nate a  snake,  frighten  a  tiger,  mollify  a  lion;  but  there  is 
no  resource  with  the  monster  known  as  a  loosened  gun. 
You  cannot  kill  it, — it  is  already  dead;  and  yet  it  lives. 
It  breathes  a  sinister  life  bestowed  on  it  by  the  Infinite. 
The  plank  beneath  sways  it  to  and  fro;  it  is  moved  by 
the  ship ;  the  sea  lifts  the  ship,  and  the  wind  keeps  the 
sea  in  motion.  This  destroyer  is  a  toy.  Its  terrible  vital- 
ity is  fed  by  the  ship,  the  waves,  and  the  wind,  each  lend- 
ing its  aid.  What  is  to  be  done  with  this  complication? 
How  fetter  this  monstrous  mechanism  of  shipwreck? 
How  foresee  its  coming  and  goings,  its  recoils,  its  halts, 


192  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

its  shocks?  Any  one  of  those  blows  may  stave  in  the 
side  of  the  vessel.  How  can  one  guard  against  these 
terrible  gyrations?  One  has  to  do  with  a  projectile  that 
reflects,  that  has  ideas,  and  changes  its  direction  at  any 
moment.  How  can  one  arrest  an  object  in  its  course, 
whose  onslaught  must  be  avoided?  The  dreadful  cannon 
rushes  about,  advances,  recedes,  strikes  to  right  and  to 
left,  flies  here  and  there,  baffles  their  attempts  at  capture, 
sweeps  away  obstacles,  crushing  men  like  flies. 

The  extreme  danger  of  the  situation  comes  from  the 
unsteadiness  of  the  deck.  How  is  one  to  cope  with  the 
caprices  of  an  inclined  plane?  The  ship  had  within  its 
depths,  so  to  speak,  imprisoned  lightning  struggling  for 
escape;  something  like  the  rumbling  of  thunder  during 
an  earthquake.  In  an  instant  the  crew  was  on  its  feet. 
It  was  the  chief  gunner's  fault,  who  had  neglected  to 
fasten  the  screw-nut  of  the  breeching  chain,  and  had  not 
thoroughly  chocked  the  four  trucks  of  the  carronade, 
which  allowed  play  to  the  frame  and  the  bottom  of  the 
gun-carriage,  thereby  disarranging  the  two  platforms 
and  parting  the  breeching.  The  lashings  were  broken, 
so  that  the  gun  was  no  longer  firm  on  its  carriage.  The 
stationary  breeching  which  prevents  the  recoil  was  not 
in  use  at  that  time.  As  a  wave  struck  the  ship's  side  the 
cannon,  insufficiently  secured,  had  receded,  and  having 
broken  its  chain,  began  to  wander  threateningly  over  the 
deck.  In  order  to  get  an  idea  of  this  strange  sliding, 
fancy  a  drop  of  water  sliding  down  a  pane  of  glass. 

When  the  fastening  broke,  the  gunners  were  in  the  bat- 
tery, singly  and  in  groups,  clearing  the  ship  for  action. 
The  carronade,  thrown  forward  by  the  pitching,  dashed 
into  a  group  of  men,  killing  four  of  them  at  the  first  blow; 
then,  hurled  back  by  the  rolling,  it  cut  in  two  an  unfortu- 
nate fifth  man,  and  struck  and  dismounted  one  of  the  guns 
of  the  larboard  battery.  Hence  the  cry  of  distress  which 


THE  CORVETTE  CLAYMORE  193 

had  been  heard.  All  the  men  rushed  to  the  ladder.  The 
gun-deck  was  empty  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye. 

The  monstrous  gun  was  left  to  itself.  It  was  its  own 
mistress,  and  mistress  of  the  ship.  It  could  do  with  it 
whatsoever  it  wished.  This  crew,  accustomed  to  laugh  in 
battle,  now  trembled.  It  would  be  impossible  to  describe 
their  terror. 

Captain  Boisberthelot  and  Lieutenant  la  Vieuville, 
brave  men  though  they  were,  paused  at  the  top  of  the 
ladder,  silent,  pale,  and  undecided,  looking  down  on  the 
deck.  Some  one  pushed  them  aside  with  his  elbow,  and 
descended.  It  was  their  passenger,  the  peasant,  the  man 
about  whom  they  were  talking  a  moment  ago. 

Having  reached  the  bottom  of  the  ladder  he  halted. 


THE  cannon  was  rolling  to  and  fro  on  the  deck.  It 
might  have  been  called  the  living  chariot  of  the  Apoca- 
lypse. A  dim  wavering  of  lights  and  shadows  was  added 
to  this  spectacle  by  the  marine  lantern,  swinging  under  the 
deck.  The  outlines  of  the  cannon  were  indistinguish- 
able, by  reason  of  the  rapidity  of  its  motion;  sometimes 
it  looked  black  when  the  light  shone  upon  it,  then  again 
it  would  cast  pale,  glimmering  reflections  in  the  darkness. 

It  was  still  pursuing  its  work  of  destruction.  It  had 
already  shattered  four  other  pieces,  and  made  two 
breaches  in  the  ship's  side,  fortunately  above  the  water- 
line,  but  which  would  leak  in  case  of  rough  weather.  It 
rushed  frantically  against  the  timbers;  the  stout  riders 
resisted, — curved  timbers  have  great  strength;  but  one 
could  hear  them  crack  under  this  tremendous  assault 
brought  to  bear  simultaneously  on  every  side,  with  a  cer- 
tain omnipresence  truly  appalling. 

A  bullet  shaken  in  a  bottle  could  not  produce  sharper 
or  more  rapid  sounds.  The  four  wheels  were  passing 
and  repassing  over  the  dead  bodies,  cutting  and  tearing 


194  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

them  to  pieces,  and  the  five  corpses  had  become  five 
trunks  rolling  hither  and  thither;  the  heads  seemed  to  cry 
out;  streams  of  blood  flowed  over  the  deck,  following 
the  motion  of  the  ship.  The  ceiling,  damaged  in  several 
places,  had  begun  to  give  way.  The  whole  ship  was 
filled  with  a  dreadful  tumult. 

The  captain,  who  had  rapidly  recovered  his  self- 
possession,  had  given  orders  to  throw  down  the  hatchway 
all  that  could  abate  the  rage  and  check  the  mad  onslaught 
of  this  infuriated  gun;  mattresses,  hammocks,  spare  sails, 
coils  of  rope,  the  bags  of  the  crew,  and  bales  of  false 
assignats,  with  which  the  corvette  was  laden, — that  in- 
famous stratagem  of  English  origin  being  considered  a 
fair  trick  in  war. 

But  what  availed  these  rags?  No  one  dared  to  go 
down  to  arrange  them,  and  in  a  few  moments  they  were 
reduced  to  lint. 

There  was  just  sea  enough  to  render  this  accident  as 
complete  as  possible.  A  tempest  would  have  been  wel- 
come. It  might  have  upset  the  cannon,  and  which  its 
four  wheels  once  in  the  air,  it  could  easily  have  been  mas- 
tered. Meanwhile  the  havoc  increased.  There  were 
even  incisions  and  fractures  in  the  masts,  that  stood  like 
pillars  grounded  firmly  in  the  keel,  and  piercing  the  sev- 
eral decks  of  the  vessel.  The  mizzen-mast  was  split,  and 
even  the  main-mast  was  damaged  by  the  convulsive  blows 
of  the  cannon.  The  destruction  of  the  battery  still  went 
on.  Ten  out  of  the  thirty  pieces  were  useless.  The  frac- 
tures in  the  side  increased,  and  the  corvette  began  to  leak. 

The  old  passenger,  who  had  descended  to  the  gun-deck, 
looked  like  one  carved  in  stone  as  he  stood  motionless 
at  the  foot  of  the  stairs  and  glanced  sternly  over  the 
devastation.  It  would  have  been  impossible  to  move  a 
step  upon  the  deck. 

Each  bound  of  the  liberated    carronade    seemed    to 


THE  CORVETTE  CLAYMORE  195 

threaten  the  destruction  of  the  ship.  But  a  few  moments 
longer,  and  shipwreck  would  be  inevitable. 

They  must  either  overcome  this  calamity  or  perish; 
some  decisive  action  must  be  taken.  But  what? 

What  a  combatant  was  this  carronade! 

Here  was  this  mad  creature  to  be  arrested,  this  flash 
of  lightning  to  be  seized,  this  thunderbolt  to  be  crushed. 
Boisberthelot  said  to  Vieuville : — 

"  Do  you  believe  in  God,  chevalier?  " 

"  Yes  and  no,  sometimes  I  do !  "  replied  La  Vieuville. 

"  In  a  tempest?  " 

"  Yes,  and  in  moments  like  these." 

"  Truly  God  alone  can  save  us,"  said  Boisberthelot. 

All  were  silent,  leaving  the  carronade  to  its  horrible 
uproar. 

The  waves  beating  the  ship  from  without  answered  the 
blows  of  the  cannon  within,  very  much  like  a  couple  of 
hammers  striking  in  turn. 

Suddenly  in  the  midst  of  this  inaccessible  circus,  where 
the  escaped  cannon  was  tossing  from  side  to  side,  a  man 
appeared,  grasping  an  iron  bar.  It  was  the  author  of 
the  catastrophe,  the  chief  gunner,  whose  criminal  negli- 
gence had  caused  the  accident, —  the  captain  of  the  gun. 
Having  brought  about  the  evil,  his  intention  was  to  re- 
pair it.  Holding  a  handspike  in  one  hand,  and  in  the 
other  a  tiller  rope  with  the  slip-noose  in  it,  he  had  jumped 
through  the  hatchway  to  the  deck  below. 

Then  began  a  terrible  struggle;  a  titanic  spectacle; 
a  combat  between  cannon  and  cannoneer;  a  contest  be- 
tween mind  and  matter;  a  duel  between  man  and  the 
inanimate.  The  man  stood  in  one  corner  in  an  attitude 
of  expectancy,  leaning  on  the  rider  and  holding  in  his 
hands  the  bar  and  the  rope;  calm,  livid,  and  tragic,  he 
stood  firmly  on  his  legs,  that  were  like  two  pillars  of 
steel. 


196  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

He  was  waiting  for  the  cannon  to  approach  him. 

The  gunner  knew  his  piece,  and  he  felt  as  though  it 
must  know  him.  They  had  lived  together  a  long  time. 
How  often  had  he  put  his  hand  in  its  mouth.  It  was 
his  domestic  monster.  He  began  to  talk  to  it  as  he  would 
to  a  dog.  "  Come,"  said  he.  Possibly  he  loved  it. 

He  seemed  to  wish  for  its  coming,  and  yet  its  ap- 
proach meant  sure  destruction  for  him.  How  to  avoid 
being  crushed  was  the  question.  All  looked  on  in  terror. 

Not  a  breath  was  drawn  freely,  except  perhaps  by  the 
old  man,  who  remained  on  the  gun-deck  gazing  sternly 
on  the  two  combatants. 

He  himself  was  in  danger  of  being  crushed  by  the 
piece;  still  he  did  not  move. 

Beneath  them  the  blind  sea  had  command  of  the  battle. 
When,  in  the  act  of  accepting  this  awful  hand-to-hand 
struggle,  the  gunner  approached  to  challenge  the  cannon, 
it  happened  that  the  surging  sea  held  the  gun  motion- 
less for  an  instant,  as  though  stupefied.  "  Come  on  I " 
said  the  man.  It  seemed  to  listen. 

Suddenly  it  leaped  towards  him.  The  man  dodged. 
Then  the  struggle  began, —  a  contest  unheard  of;  the 
fragile  wrestling  with  the  invulnerable ;  the  human  war- 
rior attacking  the  brazen  beast;  blind  force  on  the  one 
side,  soul  on  the  other. 

All  this  was  in  the  shadow.  It  was  like  an  indistinct 
vision  of  a  miracle. 

A  soul! — strangely  enough  it  seemed  as  if  a  soul 
existed  within  the  cannon,  but  one  consumed  with 
hate  and  rage.  The  blind  thing  seemed  to  have  eyes.  It 
appeared  as  though  the  monster  were  watching  the  man. 
There  was,  or  at  least  one  might  have  supposed  it,  cun- 
ning in  this  mass.  It  also  chose  its  opportunity.  It  w; 
as  though  a  gigantic  insect  of  iron  was  endowed  with  th< 
will  of  a  demon.  Now  and  then  this  colossal  grass- 


THE  CORVETTE  CLAYMORE  197 

hopper  would  strike  the  low  ceiling  of  the  gun-deck,  then 
falling  back  on  its  four  wheels,  like  a  tiger  on  all  fours, 
rush  upon  the  man.  He  —  supple,  agile,  adroit  — • 
writhed  like  a  serpent  before  these  lightning  movements. 
He  avoided  encounters;  but  the  blows  from  which  he 
escaped  fell  with  destructive  force  upon  the  vessel.  A 
piece  of  broken  chain  remained  attached  to  the  carron- 
ade.  This  bit  of  chain  had  twisted  in  some  incompre- 
hensible way  around  the  breech  button. 

One  end  of  the  chain  was  fastened  to  the  gun-carriage; 
the  other  end  thrashed  wildly  around,  aggravating  the 
danger  with  every  bound  of  the  cannon.  The  screw  held 
it  as  in  a  clenched  hand,  and  this  chain,  multiplying  the 
strokes  of  the  battering-ram  by  those  of  the  thong,  made 
a  terrible  whirlwind  around  the  gun, —  a  lash  of  iron 
in  a  fist  of  brass.  This  chain  complicated  the  combat. 

Despite  all  this,  the  man  fought.  He  even  attacked 
the  cannon  at  times,  crawling  along  by  the  side  of  the 
ship  and  clutching  his  handspike  and  the  rope;  the 
cannon  seemed  to  understand  his  movements,  and  fled  as 
though  suspecting  a  trap.  The  man,  nothing  daunted, 
pursued  his  chase. 

Such  a  struggle  must  necessarily  be  brief.  Suddenly 
the  cannon  seemed  to  say  to  itself:  Now,  then,  there 
must  be  an  end  to  this.  And  it  stopped.  A  crisis  was 
felt  to  be  at  hand.  The  cannon,  as  if  in  suspense,  seemed 
to  meditate,  or  —  for  to  all  intents  and  purposes  it  was 
a  living  creature  —  it  really  did  meditate,  some  furious 
design.  All  at  once  it  rushed  on  the  gunner,  who  sprang 
aside  with  a  laugh,  crying  out,  "Try  it  again!  "  as  the 
cannon  passed  him.  The  gun  in  its  fury  smashed  one  of 
the  larboard  carronades;  then,  by  the  invisible  sling  in 
which  it  seemed  to  be  held,  it  was  thrown  to  the  star- 
board, towards  the  man,  who  escaped.  Three  carron- 
ades were  crushed  by  its  onslaught;  then,  as  though  blind 


198  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

and  besides  itself  it  turned  from  the  man,  and  rolled  from 
stern  to  stem,  splintering  the  latter,  and  causing  a  breach 
in  the  walls  of  the  prow.  The  gunner  took  refuge  at  the 
foot  of  the  ladder,  a  short  distance  from  the  old  man, 
who  stood  watching.  He  held  his  handspike  in  readiness. 
The  cannon  seemed  aware  of  it,  and  without  taking  the 
trouble  to  turn,  it  rushed  backward  on  the  man,  as  swift 
as  the  blow  of  an  axe.  The  gunner,  if  driven  up  against 
the  side  of  the  ship,  would  be  lost. 

One  cry  arose  from  the  crew. 

The  old  passenger  —  who  until  this  moment  had  stood 
motionless — sprang  forward  more  swiftly  than  all  those 
mad  swirls.    He  had  seized  a  bale  of  the  false  assignats, 
and  at  the  risk  of  being  crushed  succeeded  in  throwing  it 
between  the  wheels  of  the  carronade.    This  decisive  anc 
perilous  manoeuvre  could  not  have  been  executed  witl 
more  precision  and  adroitness  by  an  adept  in  all  the  exer- 
cises given  in  the  work  of  Durosel's  "  Manual  of  Nav; 
Gunnery." 

The  bale  had  the  effect  of  a  plug.    A  pebble  may  blo< 
a  log;    a  branch  sometimes  changes  the  course  of   ai 
avalanche.      The   carronade   stumbled,    and   the   gunnei 
availing  himself  of  the  perilous  opportunity,  thrust  hii 
iron  bar  between  the  spokes  of  the  back  wheels.     Pitcl 
ing  forward,  the  cannon  stopped;    and  the  man,  using 
his  bar  for  a  lever,  rocked  it  backward  and  forward.    The 
heavy  mass  upset,  with  the  resonant  sound  of  a  bell  that 
crashes  in  its  fall.     The  man,  reeking  with  perspiration, 
threw  himself  upon  it,  and  passed  the  slip-noose  of  the 
tiller-rope  around  the  neck  of  the  defeated  monster. 

The  combat  was  ended.  The  man  had  conquered. 
The  ant  had  overcome  the  mastodon;  the  pygmy  had 
imprisoned  the  thunderbolt. 

The  soldiers  and  sailors  applauded. 


THE  CORVETTE  CLAYMORE  199 

The  crew  rushed  forward  with  chains  and  cables,  and 
in  an  instant  the  cannon  was  secured. 

Saluting  the  passenger,  the  gunner  exclaimed, — 

"  Sir,  you  have  saved  my  life !  " 

The  old  man  had  resumed  his  impassible  attitude,  and 
made  no  reply. 


THE  man  had  conquered;  but  it  might  be  affirmed  that 
the  cannon  also  had  gained  a  victory.  Immediate  ship- 
wreck was  averted ;  but  the  corvette  was  still  in  danger. 
The  injuries  the  ship  had  sustained  seemed  irreparable. 
There  were  five  breaches  in  the  sides,  one  of  them  —  a 
very  large  one — in  the  bow,  and  twenty  carronades  out 
of  thirty  lay  shattered  in  their  frames.  The  recaptured 
gun,  which  had  been  secured  by  a  chain,  was  itself  dis- 
abled. The  screw  of  the  breech-button  being  wrenched, 
it  would  consequently  be  impossible  to  level  the  cannon. 
The  battery  was  reduced  to  nine  guns ;  there  was  a  leak- 
age in  the  hold.  All  these  damages  must  be  repaired 
without  loss  of  time,  and  the  pumps  set  in  operation. 
Now  that  the  gun-deck  had  become  visible,  it  was  fright- 
ful to  look  upon.  The  interior  of  a  mad  elephant's  cage 
could  not  have  been  more  thoroughly  devastated.  How- 
ever important  it  might  be  for  the  corvette  to  avoid  ob- 
servation, the  care  for  its  immediate  safety  was  still 
more  imperative.  They  were  obliged  to  light  the  deck 
with  lanterns  placed  at  intervals  along  the  sides. 

In  the  meantime,  while  this  tragic  entertainment  had 
lasted,  the  crew,  entirely  absorbed  by  a  question  of  life 
and  death,  had  not  noticed  what  was  going  on  outside  of 
the  ship.  The  fog  had  thickened,  the  weather  had 
changed,  the  wind  had  driven  the  vessel  at  will ;  they  were 
out  of  their  course,  in  full  sight  of  Jersey  and  Guernsey, 
much  farther  to  the  south  than  they  ought  to  have  been, 
and  confronting  a  tumultuous  sea.  The  big  waves  kissed 


200  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

the  wounded  sides  of  the  corvette  with  kisses  that  savored 
of  danger.  The  heaving  of  the  sea  grew  threatening; 
the  wind  had  risen  to  a  gale;  a  squall,  perhaps  a  tempest, 
was  brewing.  One  could  not  see  four  oars*  length  before 
one. 

While  the  crew  made  haste  with  their  temporary  re- 
pairs on  the  gun-deck,  stopping  the  leaks  and  setting  up 
the  cannons  that  had  escaped  uninjured,  the  old  passen- 
ger returned  to  the  deck. 

He  stood  leaning  against  the  main-mast. 

He  had  taken  no  notice  of  what  was  going  on  in  the 
ship.  The  Chevalier  de  la  Vieuville  had  drawn  up  the 
marines  on  either  side  of  the  main-mast,  and  at  a  signal- 
whistle  of  the  boatswain  the  sailors,  who  had  been  busy 
in  the  rigging,  stood  up  on  the  yards.  Count  Boisberthe- 
lot  approached  the  passenger.  The  captain  was  followed 
by  a  man,  who,  haggard  and  panting,  with  his  dress  in 
disorder,  still  wore  on  his  countenance  an  expression  of 
content. 

It  was  the  gunner  who  had  so  opportunely  displayed 
his  power  as  a  tamer  of  monsters,  and  gained  the  victory 
over  the  cannon. 

The  count  made  a  military  salute  to  the  old  man  in 
the  peasant  garb,  and  said  to  him: — 

"  Here  is  the  man,  general." 

The  gunner,  with  downcast  eyes,  stood  erect  in  a  mili- 
tary attitude. 

"  General,"  resumed  Count  Boisberthelot,  "'consider- 
ing what  this  man  has  done,  do  you  not  think  that  his 
superiors  have  a  duty  to  perform?  " 

"  I  think  so,"  replied  the  old  man. 

"  Be  so  good  as  to  give  your  orders,"  resumed  Bois- 
berthelot. 

"It  is  for  you  to  give  them;  you  are  the  captain." 

"But  you  are  the  general,"  answered  Boisberthelot. 


THE  CORVETTE  CLAYMORE  201 

The  old  man  looked  at  the  gunner. 
"  Step  forward,"  he  said. 
The  gunner  advanced  a  step. 

Turning  to  Count  Boisberthelot,  the  old  man  removed 
the  cross  of  Saint  Louis  from  the  captain's  breast,  and 
fastened  it  on  the  jacket  of  the  gunner.  The  sailors 
cheered,  and  the  marines  presented  arms. 

Then  pointing  to  the  bewildered  gunner  he  added: 
"  Now  let  the  man  be  shot!  " 
Stupor  took  the  place  of  applause. 
Then,  amid  a  tomb-like  silence,  the  old  man,  raising  his 
voice,  said: — 

'The  ship  has  been  endangered  by  an  act  of  careless- 
ness, and  may  even  yet  be  lost.    It  is  all  the  same  whether 
one  be  at  sea  or  face  to  face  with  the  enemy.    A  ship  at 
is  like  an  army  in  battle.     The  tempest,  though  un- 
jen,  is  ever  present;  the  sea  is  an  ambush.     Death  is  the 
fit  penalty  for  every  fault  committed  when  facing  the 
memy.     There  is  no  fault  that  can  be  retrieved.     Cour- 
ige  must  be  rewarded  and  negligence  be  punished." 
These   words   fell    one    after   the    other   slowly    and 
•avely,  with  a  certain  implacable  rhythm,  like  the  strokes 
>f  the  axe  upon  an  oak-tree.     Looking  at  the  soldiers, 
ic  old  man  added, — 
"Do  your  duty!" 

The  man  on  whose  breast  shone  the  cross  of  Saint 
,ouis  bowed  his  head,  and  at  a  sign  of  Count  Boisberthe- 
lot two  sailors  went  down  to  the  gun-deck,  and  presently 
:turned  bringing  the  hammock-shroud,  the  two  sailors 
accompanied  by  the  ship's  chaplain,  who  since  the 
leparture  had  been  engaged  in  saying    prayers    in    the 
)fficers'  quarters.     A  sergeant  detached  from  the  ranks 
relve  soldiers,  whom  he  arranged  in  two  rows,  six  men 
in  a  row.     The  gunner  placed  himself  between  the  two 
lines.     The  chaplain,  holding  a  crucifix,   advanced  and 


202  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

took  his  place  beside  the  man.  "  March !  "  came  from 
the  lips  of  the  sergeant;  and  the  platoon  slowly  moved 
towards  the  bow,  followed  by  two  sailors  carrying  the 
shroud. 

A  gloomy  silence  fell  on  the  corvette.  In  the  distance 
a  hurricane  was  blowing.  A  few  moments  later,  a  re- 
port echoed  through  the  gloom;  one  flash,  and  all  was 
still.  Then  came  the  splash  of  a  body  falling  into  the 
water.  The  old  passenger,  still  leaning  against  the  main- 
mast, his  hands  crossed  on  his  breast,  seemed  lost  in 
thought.  Boisberthelot,  pointing  towards  him  with  the 
forefinger  of  his  left  hand,  remarked  in  an  undertone  to 
La  Vieuville, — 

"  The  Vendee  has  found  a  leader." 


THE  MERCHANTS'  CUP 
From  "Broken  Stowage,"  BY  DAVID  W.  BONE 

I 

"TTjlATTY"  REID  burst  into  the  half-deck  with  a 

M      whoop  of  exultation.      "Come  out,  boys,"   he 

yelled.     "Come  out  and  see  what  luck!     The 

James  Flint  comin'  down  the  river,  loaded  and  ready  for 

sea !     Who-oop !     What  price  the  Hilda  now  for  the 

Merchants'  Cup?" 

"Oh,  come  off,"  said  big  Jones.  "Come  off  with  your 
Merchants'  Cup.  Th'  James  Flint's  a  sure  thing,  and 
she  wasn't  more  than  half-loaded  when  we  were  up  at 
Crockett  on  Sunday!" 

"Well,  there  she  comes  anyway!  James  Flint,  sure 
enough!  Gracie's  house-flag  up,  and  the  Stars  and 
Stripes!" 

We  hustled  on  deck  and  looked  over  by  the  Sacra- 
mento's mouth.  "Fatty"  was  right.  A  big  barque  was 
towing  down  beyond  San  Pedro.  The  James  Flint! 
Nothing  else  in  'Frisco  harbour  had  spars  like  hers;  no 
ship  was  as  trim  and  clean  as  the  big  Yankee  clipper  that 
Bully  Nathan  commanded.  The  sails  were  all  aloft,  the 
boats  aboard.  She  was  ready  to  put  to  sea. 

Our  cries  brought  the  captain  and  mate  on  deck,  and 
the  sight  of  the  outward-bounder  made  old  man  B'urke's 
face  beam  like  a  nor'west  moon. 

"A  chance  for  ye  now,  byes,"  he  shouted.  "An  open 
race,  bedad !  Ye've  nothin'  t'  be  afraid  of  if  th'  James 
Flint  goes  t'  sea  by  Saturday!" 

203 


204  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

Great  was  our  joy  at  the  prospect  of  the  Yankee's  sail- 
ing. The  'Frisco  Merchants'  Cup  was  to  be  rowed  for 
on  Saturday.  It  was  a  mile-and-half  race  for  ships' 
boats,  and  three  wins  held  the  Cup  for  good.  Twice,  on 
previous  years,  the  Hilda's  trim  gig  had  shot  over  the 
line — a  handsome  winner.  If  we  won  again,  the  Cup  was 
ours  for  keeps!  But  there  were  strong  opponents  to  be 
met  this  time.  The  James  Flint  was  the  most  formid- 
able. It  was  open  word  that  Bully  Nathan  was  keen  on 
winning  the  trophy.  Every  one  knew  that  he  had  deliber- 
ately sought  out  boatmen  when  the  whalers  came  in  from 
the  north.  Those  who  had  seen  the  Yankee's  crew  at 
work  in  their  snaky  carvel-built  boat  said  that  no  one 
else  was  in  it.  What  chance  had  we  boys  in  our  clinker- 
built  against  the  thews  and  sinews  of  trained  whalemen? 
It  was  no  wonder  that  we  slapped  our  thighs  at  the  pros- 
pect of  a  more  open  race. 

Still,  even  with  the  Yankee  gone,  there  were  others  in 
the  running.  There  was  the  Rhondda  that  held  the  Cup 
for  the  year,  having  won  when  we  were  somewhere  off 
the  Horn;  then  the  Hedwig  Rickmers — a  Bremen  four- 
master — which  had  not  before  competed,  but  whose 
green-painted  gig  was  out  for  practice  morning  and  night. 
We  felt  easy  about  the  Rhondda  (for  had  we  not,  time 
and  again,  shown  them  our  stern  on  the  long  pull  from 
Green  St.  to  the  outer  anchorage?),  but  the  Germans 
were  different.  Try  as  we  might,  we  could  never  pull 
off  a  spurt  with  them.  No  one  knew  for  certain  what 
they  could  do,  only  old  Schenke,  their  skipper,  and  he 
held  his  tongue  wisely. 

The  James  Flint  came  around  the  bend,  and  our  eager 
eyes  followed  her  as  she  steered  after  the  tug.  She  was 
making  for  the  outer  anchorage,  where  the  laden  ships  lie 
in  readiness  for  a  good  start  off. 

"Th*   wind's   'bout  west  outside,"     said  Jones.     "A 


THE  MERCHANTS'  CUP  205 

'dead  muzzier1 !    She'll  not  put  t'  sea  tonight,  even  if  she 
has  all  her  'crowd'  aboard." 

"No,  worse  luck!  mebbe  she'll  lie  over  till  Saturday 
after  all.  They  say  Bully's  dead  set  on  getting  th'  Cup. 
He  might  hang  back.  .  .  .  Some  excuse — short-handed  or 
something!"  Gregson  was  the  one  for  "croaking." 

"No  hands?"  said  Fatty.  "Huh!  How  could  he  be 
short-handed  when  everybody  knows  that  Daly's  boardin'- 
house  is  chock-full  of  fightin'  Dutchmen?  No,  no!  It'll 
be  the  sack  for  Mister  Bully  B.  Nathan  if  he  lets  a  cap- 
ful oj  fair  wind  go  by  and  his  anchor  down.  Grade's 
agents  '11  watch  that!" 

"Well!  He's  here  for  th'  night,  anyway.  .  .  .  There 
goes  her  mudhook!" 

We  watched  her  great  anchor  go  hurtling  from  the 
bows  and  heard  the  roar  of  chain  cable  as  she  paid  out 
and  swung  round  to  the  tide. 

"Come  roun',  yo'  boys  dere!  Yo'  doan'  want  no  tea, 
eh?"  The  nigger  cook,  beating  tattoo  on  a  saucepan  lid, 
called  us  back  to  affairs  of  the  moment,  and  we  sat  down 
to  our  scanty  meal  in  high  spirits,  talking — all  at  one  time 
— of  our  chances  of  the  Cup. 

The  Hilda  had  been  three  months  at  San  Francisco, 
waiting  for  the  wheat  crop  and  a  profitable  charter.  We 
had  come  up  from  Australia,  and  most  of  our  crew,  hav- 
ing little  wages  due  to  them,  had  deserted  soon  after  our 
arrival.  Only  we  apprentices  and  the  sail-maker  re- 
mained, and  we  had  work  enough  to  set  our  muscles  up  in 
the  heavy  harbour  jobs.  Trimming  coal  and  shovelling 
ballast  may  not  be  scientific  training,  but  it  is  grand  work 
for  the  back  and  shoulders. 

We  were  in  good  trim  for  rowing.  The  old  man  had 
given  us  every  opportunity,  and  nothing  he  could  do  was 
wanting  to  make  us  fit.  Day  and  daily  we  had  set  our 
stroke  up  by  the  long  pull  from  the  anchorage  to  the 


206  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

wharves,  old  Burke  coaching  and  encouraging,  checking 
and  speeding  us,  till  we  worked  well  together.  Only  last 
Sunday  he  had  taken  us  out  of  our  way,  up  the  creek,  to 
where  we  could  see  the  flag  at  the  Rhondda's  masthead. 
The  old  man  said  nothing,  but  well  we  knew  he  was  think- 
ing of  how  the  square  of  blue  silk,  with  Californian  em- 
blem worked  in  white,  would  look  at  his  trim  little 
Hilda's  fore-truck!  This  flag  accompanied  the  Cup,  anc 
now  (if  only  the  Yankee  and  his  hired  whalemen  were 
safely  at  sea)  we  had  hopes  of  seeing  it  at  our  masthead 
again. 

Tea  over — still  excited  talk  went  on.  Some  one  re- 
called the  last  time  we  had  overhauled  and  passed  th< 
Rhondda's  gig. 

"It's  all  very   well   your  bucking   about   beating  th< 
Rhondda"     said  Gregson;  ubut  don't  think  we're  goinj 
to  have  it  all  our  own  way!     Mebbe  they  were  'playing 
'possum'  when  we  came  by  that  time!" 

"Maybe,"  said  Jones.  "There's  Peters  and  H.  Dob- 
son  in  her  crew.  Good  men !  Both  rowed  in  the  Wor- 
cester boat  that  left  the  Conways'  at  the  start,  three  years 
ago.  .  .  .  And  what  about  the  Rickmersf.  .  .  .  No,  no!  It 
won't  do  to  be  too  cocksure!.  .  .  .Eh,  Takia?" 

Takia  was  our  cox-n,  a  small  wiry  Jap.  Nothing  great 
in  inches,  but  a  demon  for  good  steering  and  timing  a 
stroke.  He  was  serving  his  apprenticeship  with  us  and 
had  been  a  year  in  the  Hilda.  Brute  strength  was  not 
one  of  his  points,  but  none  was  keener  or  more  active  in 
the  rigging  than  our  little  Jap. 

He  smiled, — he  always  smiled, — he  found  it  the  eas- 
iest way  of  speaking  English.  "Oh,  yes,"  he  said.  "Lit- 
tle cocksu' — good!  Too  much  cocksu' — no  good!" 

We  laughed  at  the  wisdom  of  the  East. 

"Talk  about  being  cocky,"  said  Gregson;  "you  should 
hear  Captain  Schenke  bragging  about  the  way  he  brought 


THE  MERCHANTS'  CUP  207 

the  Hedwig  Rickmers  out.  I  heard  'em  and  the  old  man 
at  it  in  the  ship-chandler's  yesterday.  Hot  ....  Look 
here,  you  chaps!  I  don't  think  the  old  man  cares  so 
much  to  win  the  Cup  as  to  beat  Schenke !  The  big 
'squarehead'  is  always  ramming  it  down  Burke's  throat 
how  he  brought  his  barque  out  from  Liverpool  in  a  hun- 
dred and  five  days,  while  the  Hilda  took  ten  days  more 
on  her  last  run  out!" 

"That's  so,  I  guess,"  said  Jones.  (Jones  had  the 
Yankee  "touch.")  "Old  Burke  would  dearly  love  to  put 
a  spoke  in  his  wheel,  but  it'll  take  some  doing.  They  say 
that  Schenke  has  got  a  friend  down  from  Sacramento- 
gym. -instructor  or  something  to  a  college  up  there.  He'll 
be  training  the  'Dutchy'  crew  like  blazes.  They'll  give 
us  a  hot  time,  I'll  bet!" 

Gregson  rose  to  go  on  deck.  "Oh,  well"  he  said,  "it 
wont  be  so  bad  if  the  James  Flint  only  lifts  his  hook  by 
Saturday.  Here's  one  bloomin'  hombre  that  funks  racin' 
a  fancy  whaler!  .  .  .  An'  doesn't  care  who  knows  it, 
either!" 

II 

Thursday  passed — and  now  Friday — still  there  was 
no  sign  of  the  wind  changing,  and  the  big  Yankee  barque 
lay  quietly  at  anchor  over  by  the  Presidio. 

When  the  butcher  came  off  from  the  shore  with  the 
day's  stores,  we  eagerly  questioned  him  about  the  pros- 
pects of  the  James  Flint's  sailing.  "Huh!  I  guess  yew're 
nat  the  only  'citizens'  that  air  concarned  'bout  that!"  he 
said.  "They're  talkin'  'bout  nuthin'  else  on  every  'lime- 
juicer'  in  the  Bay!.  .  .  .An'  th'  Rickmers!  Gee!  Schenkie's 
had  his  eye  glued  ter  th'  long  telescope  ever  since  day- 
break, watchin'  fer  th'  Flint  heavin'  up  anchor!" 

The  butcher  had  varied  information  to  give  us.  Now 
it  was  that  BWly  Nathan  had  telegraphed  to  his  New 


208  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

York  owners  for  permission  to  remain  in  port  over  Sun- 
day. Then  again,  Bully  was  on  the  point  of  being  dis- 
missed his  ship  for  not  taking  full  advantage  of  a  puff  of 
nor'-west  wind  that  came  and  went  on  Thursday  night. 

.  .  .  The  Flint  was  short  of  men !  .  .  .  The  Flint  had  a 
full  crew  aboard !  Rumours  and  rumours !  "All  sorts  o' 
talk,"  said  the  butcher;  "but  I  know  this  fer  certain — 
she's  got  all  her  stores  aboard.  Gosh !  I  guess — she — 
has!  I  don't  like  to  wish  nobody  no  harm,  byes,  but  I 
hope  Bully  Nathan's  first  chop  '11  choke  him,  fer  th'  way 
he  done  me  over  the  beef!  .  .  .  Scorch  'im!" 

In  the  forenoon  we  dropped  the  gig  and  put  out  for 
practice.  Old  Burke  and  the  mate  came  after  us  in  the 
dinghy,  the  old  man  shouting  instruction  and  encourage- 
ment through  his  megaphone  as  we  rowed  a  course  or 
spurted  hard  for  a  furious  three  minutes.  Others  were 
out  on  the  same  ploy,  and  the  backwaters  of  the  Bay  had 
each  a  lash  of  oars  to  stir  their  tideless  depths.  Near  us 
the  green  boat  of  the  Rickmers  thrashed  up  and  down  in 
style.  Time  and  again  we  drew  across — "just  for  a 
friendly  spurt" — but  the  "Dutchies"  were  not  giving  any- 
thing away,  and  sheered  off  as  we  approached.  We  spent 
an  hour  or  more  at  practice  and  were  rowing  leisurely 
back  to  the  ship  when  the  green  boat  overhauled  us,  then 
slowed  to  her  skipper's  orders. 

"How  you  vass,  Cabtin  Burke?"  said  Schenke,  an  enor- 
mous fair-headed  Teuton,  powerful-looking,  but  run  sadly 
to  fat  in  his  elder  years.  "You  t'ink  you  get  a  chanst  now, 
heinl  .  .  .  Now  de  Yankee  is  goin'  avay!"  He  pointed 
over  to  the  Presidio,  where  the  Flint  lay  at  anchor.  We 
followed  the  line  of  his  fat  forefinger.  At  anchor,  yes, 
but  the  anchor  nearly  a-weigh.  Her  flags  were  hoisted, 
the  blue  peter  fluttering  at  the  fore,  and  the  Active  tug 
was  passing  a  hawser  aboard,  getting  ready  to  tow  her 
out.  The  smoke  from  the  tugboat's  funnel  was  whirling 


THE  MERCHANTS'  CUP  209 

and  blowing  over  the  low  forts  that  guard  the  Golden 
Gates.  Good  luck!  A  fine  nor'-west  breeze  had  come 
that  would  lift  our  dreaded  rival  far  to  the  south'ard  on 
her  way  round  Cape  Horn ! 

Schenke  saw  the  pleased  look  with  which  old  Burke 
regarded  the  Yankee's  preparations  for  departure. 

uGoot  bizness,  eh?"  he  said.  "You  t'ink  you  fly  de 
flack  on  de  Hilda  nex'  Sonndag,  Cabtin?  Veil!  Ah  wish 
you  goot  look,  but  you  dond't  got  it  all  de  same !" 

"Oh,  well,  Captain  Schenke,  we  can  but  thry,"  said 
the  old  man.  uWe  can  but  thry,  sorr!  .  .  .  Shure,  she's 
a  foine  boat — that  o'  yours.  .  .  .  An*  likely-looking 
lads,  too !"  No  one  could  but  admire  the  well-set  figures 
of  the  German  crew  as  they  stroked  easily  beside  us. 

"Schweinehunden"  said  Schenke  brutally.  We  noticed 
more  than  one  stolid  face  darkling  as  they  glanced  aside. 
Schenke  had  the  name  of  a  "hard  case."  "Schweine- 
hunden"  he  said  again.  "Dey  dond't  like  de  hard  vork, 
Cabtin.  .  .  .  Dey  dond't  like  it — but  ve  takes  der  Coop, 
all  de  same !  Dey  pulls  goot  und  strong,  oder" — he 
rasped  a  short  sentence  in  rapid  Low  German — "Sher- 
mans dond't  be  beat  by  no  durn  lime-juicer,  nein !" 

Old  Burke  grinned.  "Cocky  as  ever,  Captain  Schenke ! 
Bedad  now,  since  ye  had  the  luck  of  yeVe  last  passage 
there's  no  limit  to  ye !" 

"Luck!    Luck!    Alvays  de  luck  mit  you,  Cabtin!" 

"An'  whatt  ilse?  .  .  .  Sure,  if  I  hadn't  struck  a  bilt 
of  calms  an'  had  more  than  me  share  of  head  winds  off 
the  Horn,  I'd  have  given  ye  a  day  or  two  mesilf  !n 

"Ho  I  Ho !  Ho !  Das  1st  gut!"  The  green  boat 
rocked  with  Schenke's  merriment.  He  laughed  from  his 
feet  up — every  inch  of  him  shook  with  emotion.  "Ho  I 
Ho !  Hoo !  Das  1st  ganz  gut.  You  t'ink  you  beat  de 
Hedwig  Rickmers  too,  Cabtin?  You  beat  'm  mit  dot 


210  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

putty  leetle  barque?  You  beat  'm  mit  de  Hilda,  nicht- 
wahr?" 

"Well,  no,"  said  our  old  man.  "I  don't  exactly  say 
I  beat  the  Rickmers,  but  if  I  had  the  luck  o'  winds  that 
ye  had,  bedad,  I'd  crack  th'  Hilda  out  in  a  hundred  an' 
five  days  too !" 

"Now,  dot  is  not  drue,  Cabtin!  Aber  ganz  und  gar 
nicht!  You  know  you  haf  bedder  look  von  de  vind  as 
Ah  got.  Ah  sail  mein  sheep!  Ah  dond't  vait  for  de 
fair  winds  nor  not'ings  !" 

"No,"  said  Burke,  "but  ye  get  'em,  all  the  same. 
Everybody  knows  ye've  th'  divil's  own  luck,  Schenke !" 

"Und  so  you  vas!  Look  now,  Cabtin  Burke.  You 
t'nk  you  got  so  fast  a  sheep  as  mein,  eh?  Veil!  Ah 
gif  you  a  chanst  to  make  money.  Ah  bet  you  feefty  dol- 
lars to  tventig,  Ah  take  mein  sheep  home  quicker  as  you 
vass!" 

"Done  wit'  ye,"  said  stout  old  Taddy'  Burke,  though 
well  he  know  the  big  German  barque  could  sail  round 
the  little  Hilda.  "Fifty  dollars  to  twenty,  Captain 
Schenke  ,  an'  moind  y've  said  it!" 

The  green  boat  sheered  off  and  forged  ahead,  Schenke 
laughing  and  waving  his  hand  derisively.  When  they 
had  pulled  out  of  earshot,  the  old  man  turned  ruefully  to 
the  mate :  "Five  pounds  clean  t'rown  away,  mister ! 
Foine  I  know  the  Rickmers  can  baate  us,  but  I  wasn't 
goin'  t'  let  that  ould  'squarehead'  have  it  all  his  own 
way!  Divil  th'  fear!" 

We  swung  under  the  Hilda's  stern  and  hooked  on  to 
the  gangway.  The  old  man  stepped  out,  climbed  a  pace 
or  two,  then  came  back. 

"Look  ye  here,  byes,"  he  said,  "I'll  give  ye  foive 
dollars  a  man — an'  a  day's  'liberty'  t'  spind  it — if  ye  only 
baate  th'  'Dutchmen.'  .  .  .  Let  th'  Cup  go  where  it 
will !" 


THE  MERCHANTS'  CUP  211 

III 

The  Bay  of  San  Francisco  is  certainly  one  of  the  finest 
natural  harbours  in  the  world,  let  Sydney  and  Rio  and 
Falmouth  all  contest  the  claim.  Land-locked  to  every 
wind  that  blows,  with  only  a  narrow  channel  open  to  the 
sea,  the  navies  of  the  world  could  lie  peacefully  together 
in  its  sheltered  waters.  The  coast  that  environs  the 
harbour  abounds  in  natural  beauties,  but  of  all  the 
wooded  creeks — fair  stretches  of  undulating  downs — or 
stately  curves  of  winding  river,  none  surpasses  the  little 
bay  formed  by  the  turn  of  Benita,  the  northern  postern 
of  the  Golden  Gates.  Here  is  the  little  township  of  San- 
cilito,  with  its  pretty  white  houses  nestling  among  the 
dark  green  of  the  deeply  wooded  slopes.  In  the  bay  there 
is  good  anchorage  for  a  limited  number  of  vessels,  and 
fortunate  were  they  who  manned  the  tall  ships  that  lay 
there,  swinging  ebb  and  flood,  waiting  for  a  burthen  of 
golden  grain. 

On  Saturday  the  little  bay  was  crowded  by  a  muster 
of  varied  craft.  The  ships  at  'anchor  were  "dressed"  to 
the  mastheads  with  gaily-coloured  flags.  Huge  ferry- 
boats passed  slowly  up  and  down,  their  tiers  of  decks 
crowded  with  sightseers.  Tug-boats  and  launches  darted 
about,  clearing  the  course,  or  convoying  racing  boats  to 
the  starting  lines.  Ships'  boats  of  all  kinds  were  massed 
together  close  inshore :  gigs  and  pinnances,  lean  whale- 
boats,  squat  dinghys,  even  high-sided  ocean  lifeboats 
with  their  sombre  broad  belts  of  ribbed  cork.  A  gay 
scene  of  colour  and  animation.  A  fine  turn-out  to  see 
the  fortune  of  the  Merchants'  Cup. 

At  two  the  Regatta  began.  A  race  for  longshore  craft 
showed  that  the  boarding-house  "crimps"  were  as  skillful 
at  boatman's  work  as  at  inducing  sailormen  to  desert 
their  ships.  Then  two  outriggers  flashed  by,  contesting 


212  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

a  heat  for  a  College  race.  We  in  the  Hilda's  gig  lay 
handily  at  the  starting  line  and  soon  were  called  out. 
There  were  nine  entries  for  the  Cup,  and  the  judges  had 
decided  to  run  three  heats.  We  were  drawn  in  the  first, 
and,  together  with  the  Ardlea's  and  Compton's  gigs,  went 
out  to  be  inspected.  The  boats  had  to  race  in  sea-service 
conditions,  no  lightening  was  allowed.  At  the  challenge 
of  the  judges  we  showed  our  gear.  "Spare  oar — right! 
Rowlocks — right !  Sea-anchor — right !  Bottom  boards 
and  stern  grating — right.  Painter,  ten  fathoms;  hemp. 
.  .  .  A  bit  short  there,  Compton!  Eh?  .  .  .  Oh — all 
right,"  said  the  official,  and  we  manoeuvred  into  position, 
our  sterns  held  in  by  the  guard-boats.  Some  of  the  ships' 
captains  had  engaged  a  steam-launch  to  follow  the  heats, 
and  old  Burke  was  there  with  his  trumpet,  shouting  en- 
couragement already. 

"Air  yew  ready?" 

A  pause:  then,  pistol  shot!  We  struck  water  and 
laid  out !  Our  task  was  not  difficult.  The  Ardlea's  gig 
was  broad-bowed  and  heavy;  they  had  no  chance;  but  the 
Compton's  gave  us  a  stiff  pull  to  more  than  midway.  Had 
they  been  like  us,  three  months  at  boat-work,  we  had  not 
pulled  so  easily  up  to  the  mark,  but  their  ship  was  just 
in  from  Liverpool,  and  they  were  in  poor  condition  for 
a  mile  and  a  half  at  pressure.  We  won  easily,  and  scarce 
had  cheered  the  losers  before  the  launch  came  fussing  up. 

"Come  aboard,  Takia,"  shouted  old  Burke.  "Ye  come 
down  wit*  me  an'  see  what  shape  the  German  makes, 
He's  drawn  wit'  th'  Rhondda  in  this  heat!" 

Takia  bundled  aboard  the  launch  and  we  hauled  in- 
shore to  watch  the  race.  There  was  a  delay  at  the  start. 
Schenke,  nlchts  verstehen,  as  he  said,  was  for  sending 
his  boat  away  without  a  painter  or  spare  gear.  He 
was  pulled  up  by  the  judges,  and  had  to  borrow. 

Now  they  were  ready.  The  Rickmers  outside,  Rhondda 


THE  MERCHANTS'  CUP  213 

in  the  middle  berth,  and  the  neat  little  Slieve  Donard  in- 
shore. At  the  start  the  Rhonddas  came  fair  away  from 
the  German  boat,  but  even  at  the  distance  we  could  see 
that  the  "Dutchmen"  were  well  in  hand.  At  midway  the 
Rhondda  was  leading  by  a  length,  still  going  strong,  but 
they  had  shot  their  bolt,  and  the  green  boat  was  surely 
pulling  up.  The  Slieve  Donard,  after  an  unsteady  course, 
had  given  up.  Soon  we  could  hear  old  Schenke  roaring 
oaths  and  orders,  as  his  launch  came  flying  on  in  the 
wake  of  the  speeding  boats. 

The  Germans  spurted. 

We  yelled  encouragement  to  the  Rhonddas.  "Give 
'em  beans,  old  sons!  ..." 

"Rhondda!  Rhondda!  .  .  .  Shake  'er  up"  Gallantly 
the  white  boat  strove  to  keep  her  place,  but  the  greens 
were  too  strong.  With  a  rush,  they  took  the  lead  and 
held  it  to  the  finish,  though  two  lengths  from  the  line 
their  stroke  faltered,  the  swing  was  gone,  and  they  were 
dabbling  feebly  when  the  shot  rang  out. 

"A  grand  race,"  said  every  one  around.  "A  grand 
race" — but  old  Burke  had  something  to  say  when  he 
steamed  up  to  put  our  cox'n  among  us.  uByes,  byes," 
he  said,  "if  there  had  been  twinty  yards  more  the 
Rhondda  would  have  won.  Now  d'ye  moind,  Takia,  ye 
divil  .  .  .  d'ye  moind!  Keep  th'  byes  in  hand  till  I 
give  ye  th'  wurrd !  .  .  .  An'  whin  ye  get  th'  wurrd,  byes ! 
.  .  .  Oh,  Saints !  Shake  her  up  when  ye  get  th'  wurrd !" 

The  third  heat  was  closely  contested.  All  three  boats, 
two  Liverpool  barques  and  a  Nova  Scotiaman,  came  on 
steadily  together.  A  clean  race,  rowed  from  start  to 
finish,  and  the  Tuebrook  winning  by  a  short  length. 

The  afternoon  was  well  spent  when  we  stripped  for 
the  final,  and  took  up  our  positions  on  the  line.  How 
big  and  muscular  the  Germans  looked!  How  well  the 
green  boat  sat  the  water  1  With  what  inward  quakings 


214  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

we  noted  the  clean  fine  lines  of  stem  and  stern!  .  .  . 
Of  the  Tuebrook  we  had  no  fear.  We  knew  they  could 
never  stand  the  pace  the  Germans  would  set.  Could  we? 

Old  Burke,  though  in  a  fever  of  excitement  when  we 
came  to  the  line,  had  little  to  say.  "Keep  the  byes  in  hand, 
Takia — till  ye  get  th'  wurrd,"  was  all  he  muttered.  We 
swung  our  oar-blades  forward. 

"Ready?"    The  starter  challenged  us. 

Suddenly  Takia  yelped!  We  struck  and  lay  back  as 
the  shot  rang  out!  A  stroke  gained!  Takia  had  taken 
the  flash;  the  others  the  report! 

The  Jap's  clever  start  gave  us  confidence  and  a  lead. 
Big  Jones  at  stroke  worked  us  up  to  better  the  advantage. 
The  green  boat  sheered  a  little,  then  steadied  and  came 
on,  keeping  to  us,  though  nearly  a  length  astern.  The 
Tuebrook  had  made  a  bad  start,  but  was  thrashing  away 
pluckily  in  the  rear. 

So  we  hammered  at  it  for  a  third  of  the  course,  when 
Takia  took  charge.  Since  his  famous  start  he  had  left 
us  to  take  stroke  as  Jones  pressed  us,  but  now  he  saw 
signs  of  the  waver  that  comes  after  the  first  furious 
burst  — shifting  grip  or  change  of  foothold. 

"'Trok! — 'trok/ — 'trok!"  he  muttered,  and  steadied 
the  pace.  "'Troke! — 'troke! — 'trokef"  in  monotone, 
good  for  soothing  tension. 

Past  midway  the  green  boat  came  away.     The  ring 
of  the  German's  rowlocks  rose  to  treble  pitch.     Slowly 
they    drew    up,    working    at    top    speed.      Now    they 
were  level — level !    and  Takia  still  droning    "  'troke!— 
'troke! — 'troke!" — as  if  the  lead  was  ours! 

Wild  outcry  came  from  the  crowd  as  the  green  boat 
forged  ahead!    Deep  roars  from  Schenke  somewhere  in 
the  rear!     Now,  labouring  still  to  Takia's  'troke!— 
'troke!  we  had  the  foam  of  the  German's  stern  wash  at 
our  blades!     "Come  away,  Hilda's!"  .    .    .  "Shake  her 


THE  MERCHANTS'  CUP  215 

up,  there!"  .  .  .  "Hilda-h!  Hilda-h/"— Tiki*  took  no 
outward  heed  of  the  cries.  He  was  staring  stolidly 
ahead,  bending  to  the  pulse  of  the  boat.  No  outward 
heed — but  'trokef — 'trokef  came  faster  from  his  lips. 
We  strained,  almost  holding  the  Germans'  ensign  at  level 
with  our  bow  pennant. 

Loud  over  the  wild  yells  of  the  crowd  we  heard  the 
voice  we  knew — old  Burke's  bull-roar:  "Let  'er  rip, 
Taki'l  Let  yer  rip,  bye!" 

Takia's  eyes  gleamed  as  he  sped  us  up — up — up! 
'Troke  became  a  yelp  like  a  wounded  dog's.  He  crouched, 
standing,  in  the  sternsheets,  and  lashed  us  up  to  a  furious 
thrash  of  oars!  Still  quicker!  .  .  .  The  eyes  of  him 
glared  at  each  of  us,  as  if  daring  us  to  fail!  The  yelp 
became  a  scream  as  we  drew  level — the  Germans  still  at 
top  speed.  "Upl  Up!  Up!"  yells  Takia,  little  yellow 
devil  with  a  white  froth  at  his  lips!  "Up!  Up!  Up!" 
swaying  unsteadily  to  meet  the  furious  urging. 

The  ring  of  the  German  rowlocks  deepens — deepens — 
we  see  the  green  bow  at  our  blades  again.  Her  number 
two  falters — jars — recovers  again — and  pulls  stubbornly 
on.  Their  "shot"  is  fired!  They  can  do  no  more! 
Done! 

And  so  are  we !  Takia  drops  the  yoke  ropes  and  leans 
forward  on  the  gunwale !  Oars  jar  together !  Big  Jones 
bends  forward  with  his  mouth  wide — wide !  Done ! 

But  not  before  a  hush — a  solitary  pistol  shot — then 
roar  of  voices  and  shrilling  of  steamer  syrens  tell  us  that 
the  Cup  is  ours ! 

IV 

A  month  later  there  was  a  stir  in  the  western  seaports. 
No  longer  the  ships  lay  swinging  idly  at  their  moorings. 
The  harvest  of  grain  was  ready  for  the  carriers,  and 
every  day  sail  was  spread  to  the  free  wind  outside  the 


216  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

Golden  Gates,  and  laden  ships  went  speeding  on  their 
homeward  voyages.  The  days  of  boat-races  and  pleasant 
time-passing  harbour  jobs  were  gone;  it  was  now  work — 
work — to  get  the  ship  ready  for  her  burden,  and,  swaying 
the  great  sails  aloft,  to  rig  harness  for  the  power  that 
was  to  bear  us  home.  From  early  morning  till  late  eve- 
ning we  were  kept  hard  at  it;  for  Captain  Burke  and  the 
mate  were  as  keen  on  getting  the  Hilda  to  sea  after  her 
long  stay  in  port  as  they  were  on  jockeying  us  up  to  win 
the  Cup.  Often,  when  we  turned  to  in  the  morning,  we 
would  find  a  new  shipmate  ready  to  bear  a  hand  with  us. 
The  old  man  believed  in  picking  up  a  likely  man  when  he 
offered.  Long  experience  of  Pacific  ports  had  taught 
him  how  difficult  it  is  to  get  a  crew  at  the  last  moment. 

So  when  at  length  the  cargo  was  stowed,  we  were  quite 
ready  to  go  to  sea,  while  many  others — the  Hedwlg  Rick- 
mers  among  them — were  waiting  for  men. 

On  the  day  before  sailing  a  number  of  the  ship  captains 
were  gathered  together  in  the  chandler's  store,  talking 
of  freights  and  passages,  and  speculating  on  the  runs 
they  hoped  to  make.  Burke  and  Schencke  were  the 
loudest  talkers,  for  we  were  both  bound  to  Falmouth  "for 
orders,"  and  the  Rickmers  would  probably  sail  three  days 
after  we  had  gone. 

"Vat  'bout  dot  bett  you  make  mit  me,  Cabtin?"  said 
Schenke.  "Dot  is  all  recht,  no  ?" 

"Oh,  yess,"  answered  the  old  man,  but  without  en- 
thusiasm. "That  stands." 

"Hoo !  Hoo  I  Hoo !  Tventig  dollars  to  feefty — dot 
you  goes  home  quicker  as  me,  no?"  Schencke  turned  to 
the  other  men.  Vat  you  tinks,  yenthelmen  ?  Ah  tinks  Ah 
sbend  der  tventig  dollars  now — so  sure  Ah  vass." 

The  others  laughed.  "Man,  man,"  said  Findlayson  of 
the  Rhondda.  "You  don't  tell  me  Burke's  been  fool 


THE  MERCHANTS'  CUP  217 

enough  to  take  that  bet.  Hoo !  You  haven't  tKe  gHost 
of  a  chance,  Burke." 

"Och,  ye  never  know,"  said  the  now  doleful  sportsman. 
"Ye  never  know  ye're  luck." 

"Look  here,  Cabtin,"  said  Schencke  (good-humoured 
by  the  unspoken  tribute  to  his  vessel's  sailing  powers)  — 
"Ah  gif  you  a  chanst.  Ah  make  de  bett  dis  vay — look. 
Ve  goes  to  Falmouth — you  und  me,  heinf  Now,  de  first 
who  comes  on  de  shore  vins  de  money.  Dot  vill  gif  you 
t'ree  days'  start,  no?" 

"That's  more  like  it,"  said  the  other  captains.  "I  wish 
you  luck,  Burke,"  said  Findlayson.  "Good  luck — you'll 
need  it  too — if  you  are  to  be  home  before  the  big 
German." 

So  the  bet  was  made. 

At  daybreak  next  morning  we  put  out  to  sea.  The 
good  luck  that  the  Rhondda  wished  us  came  our  way  from 
the  very  first.  When  the  tug  left  us  we  set  sail  to  a  fine 
fair  wind,  and  soon  were  bowling  along  in  style.  We 
found  the  nor'-east  Trades  with  little  seeking;  strong 
Trades,  too,  that  lifted  us  to  the  Line  almost  before  the 
harbour  dust  was  blown  from  our  masts  and  spars.  There 
calms  fell  on  us  for  a  few  days,  but  we  drifted  south  in 
the  right  current,  and  in  less  than  forty  days  had  run 
into  the  "westerlies"  and  were  bearing  away  for  the 
Horn. 

Old  Burke  was  "cracking  on"  for  all  the  Hilda  could 
carry  canvas.  Every  morning  when  he  came  on  deck 
the  first  question  to  the  mate  would  be:  "Any  ships  in 
sight,  mister?"  .  .  .  "Any  ships  astern,"  he  meant,  for 
his  first  glance  was  always  to  where  the  big  green  four- 
master  might  be  expected  to  heave  in  sight.  Then,  when 
nothing  was  reported,  he  would  begin  his  day-long  strut 
up  and  down  the  poop,  whistling  "Garryowen"  and  rub- 
bing his  hands. 

Nor  was  the  joy  at  our  good  progress  his  alone.    W. 


218  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

in  the  half-deck  knew  of  the  bet,  and  were  keen  that  the 
ship  which  carried  the  Merchants'  Cup  should  not  be 
overhauled  by  the  runner-up!  We  had  made  a  fetish 
of  the  trophy  so  hardly  won.  The  Cup  itself  was  safely 
stowed  in  the  ship's  strong  chest,  but  the  old  man  had 
let  us  have  custody  of  the  flag.  Big  Jones  had  particular 
charge  of  it;  and  it  had  been  a  custom  while  in  'Frisco 
to  exhibit  it  on  the  Saturday  nights  to  admiring  and  en- 
vious friends  from  other  ships.  This  custom  we  con- 
tinued when  at  sea.  True,  there  were  no  visitors  to  set 
us  up  and  swear  what  lusty  chaps  we  were,  but  we  could 
frank  one  another  and  say,  "If  you  hadn't  done  this  or 
that,  we  would  never  have  won  the  race." 

On  a  breezy  Saturday  evening  we  were  busy  at  these 
rites.  The  Hilda  was  doing  well  before  a  steady  nor'- 
west  wind,  but  the  weather — though  nothing  misty — was 
dark  as  a  pall.  Thick  clouds  overcast  the  sky,  and  there 
seemed  no  dividing  line  between  the  darkling  sea  and  the 
windy  banks  that  shrouded  the  horizon.  A  dirty  night 
was  in  prospect;  the  weather  would  thicken  later;  but  that 
made  the  modest  comforts  of  the  half-deck  seem  more 
inviting  by  comparison;  and  we  came  together  for  our 
weekly  "sing-song"^all  but  Gregson,  whose  turn  it  was 
to  stand  the  lookout  on  the  foVsle-head. 

The  flag  was  brought  out  and  hung  up — Jones  stand- 
ing by  to  see  that  no  pipe-lights  were  brought  near — 
and  we  ranted  at  "Ye  Mariners  of  England"  till  the 
mate  sent  word  that  further  din  would  mean  a  "work-up" 
job  for  all  of  us. 

Little  we  thought  that  we  mariners  would  soon  be  fac- 
ing dangers  as  great  as  any  we  so  glibly  sang  about. 
Even  as  we  sang,  the  Hilda  was  speeding  on  a  fatal 
course !  Across  her  track  the  almost  submerged  hull  of 
a  derelict  lay  drifting.  Black  night  veiled  the  danger 
from  the  keenest  eyes. 


THE  MERCHANTS'  CUP  219 

A  frenzied  order  from  the  poop  put  a  stunning  period 
to  our  merriment.  "Helm  up,  f'r  God's  sake!  .  .  . 
Up! — oh  God! — Up!  Up!"  A  furious  impact  dashed 
us  to  the  deck.  Staggering,  bruised,  and  bleeding,  we 
struggled  to  our  feet.  Outside  the  yells  of  fear-stricken 
men  mingled  with  hoarse  orders,  the  crash  of  spars 
hurtling  from  aloft  vied  with  the  thunder  of  canvas,  as 
the  doomed  barque  swung  round  broadside  to  the  wind 
and  sea. 

Even  in  that  dread  moment  Jones  had  heed  of  his 
precious  flag.  As  we  flew  to  the  door,  he  tore  the  flag 
down,  stuffing  it  in  his  jumper  as  he  joined  us  at  the  boats. 

There  was  no  time  to  hoist  out  the  life-boats — it  was 
pinnance  and  gig  or  nothing.  Already  the  bows  were  low 
in  the  water.  "She  goes.  She  goes!"  yelled  some  one. 
"Oh,  Christ!  She's  going  I" 

We  bore  frantically  on  the  tackles  that  linked  the  gig, 
swung  her  out,  and  lowered  by  the  run;  the  mate  had  the 
pinnace  in  the  water,  men  were  swarming  into  her.  As 
the  gig  struck  water,  the  barque  heeled  to  the  rail  awash. 
We  crowded  in,  old  Burke  the  last  to  leave  her,  and 
pushed  off.  Our  once  stately  Hilda  reeled  in  a  swirl  of 
broken  water,  and  the  deep  sea  took  her ! 

Sailor  work !  No  more  than  ten  minutes  between  "Ye 
Mariners"  and  the  foundering  of  our  barque! 

We  lay  awhile  with  hearts  too  full  for  words;  then 
the  pinnace  drew  near,  and  the  mate  called  the  men.  All 
there  but  one!  "Gregson!"  .  .  .No  Gregson!  The 
bosun  knew.  He  had  seen  what  was  Gregson  lying  still 
under  the  wreck  of  the  topmost  spars. 

The  captain  and  mate  conferred  long  together.  We 
had  no  sail  in  the  gig,  but  the  larger  boat  was  fully 
equipped.  It's  the  only  chance,  mister,"  said  Burke  at 
last.  "No  food — no  water !  We  can't  hold  out  for  long. 
Get  sail  on  your  boat  and  stand  an  hour  or  two  to  the 


220  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

eastward.  Ye  may  fall  in  with  a  ship ;  she  w'was  right 
in  th'  track  whin  she  s-struck.  We  can  but  lie  to  in  th' 
gig  an'  pray  that  a  ship  comes  by." 

"Aye,  aye,  sir."  They  stepped  the  mast  and  hoisted 
sail.  "Good-bye  all:  God  bless  ye,  captain,"  they  said 
as  the  canvas,  swelled.  "Keep  heart!"  For  a  time  we 
heard  their  voices  shouting  us  God-speed — then  silence 
came! 


Daybreak ! 

Thank  God  the  bitter  night  was  past.  Out  of  the 
east  the  long-looked-for  light  grew  on  us,  as  we  lay  to 
sea-anchor,  lurching  unsteadily  in  the  teeth  of  wind  and 
driving  rain.  At  the  first  grey  break  we  scanned  the 
now  misty  horizon.  There  was  no  sign  of  the  pinnace; 
no  God-sent  sail  in  all  the  dreary  round ! 

We  crouched  on  the  bottom  boards  of  the  little  gig 
and  gave  way  to  gloomy  thoughts.  What  else  could  be 
when  we  were  alone  and  adrift  on  the  broad  Pacific, 
without  food  or  water,  in  a  tiny  gig  already  perilously 
deep  with  the  burden  of  eight  of  us?  What  a  difference 
to  the  gay  day  when  we  manned  the  same  little  boat  and 
set  out  in  pride  to  the  contest !  Here  was  the  same  spare 
oar  that  we  held  up  to  the  judges — the  long  oar  that 
Jones  was  now  swaying  over  the  stern,  keeping  her  head 
to  the  wind  and  sea !  Out  there  in  the  tumbling  water 
the  sea-anchor  held  its  place;  the  ten  fathoms  of  good 
hemp  "painter"  was  straining  at  the  bows ! 

The  same  boat!  The  same  gear!  The  same  crew, 
but  how  different!  A  crew  of  bent  heads  and  wearied 
limbs!  Listless-eyed,  despairing!  A  ghastly  crew,  with 
black  care  riding  in  the  heaving  boat  with  us ! 

Poor  old  Burke  had  hardly  spoken  since  his  last  order 
to  the  mate  to  sail  the  pinnace  to  the  east  in  search  of 


THE  MERCHANTS'  CUP  221 

help.  When  anything  was  put  to  him,  he  would  say, 
"Aye,  aye,  b'ye,"  and  take  no  further  heed.  He  was 
utterly  crushed  by  the  disaster  that  had  come  so  sud- 
denly on  the  heels  of  his  "good  luck."  He  sat  staring 
stonily  ahead,  deaf  to  our  hopes  and  fears. 

Water  we  had  in  plenty  as  the  day  wore  on.  The 
rain-soaked  clothes  of  us  were  sufficient  for  the  time,  but 
soon  hunger  came  and  added  a  physical  pain  to  the  tor- 
ture of  our  doubt.  Again  and  again  we  stood  up  on  the 
reeling  thwarts  and  looked  wildly  around  the  sea-line.  No 
pinnace — no  ship — nothing !  Nothing,  only  sea  and  sky, 
and  circling  sea-birds  that  came  to  mock  at  our  misery 
with  their  plaintive  cries. 

A  bitter  night!  A  no  less  cruel  day!  Dark  came  on 
us  again,  chill  and  windy,  and  the  salt  spray  cutting  at  us 
like  a  whiplash. 

Boo-m-m  I 

Big  Jones  stood  up  in  the  stern-sheets,  swaying  un- 
steadily. "D'ye  hear  anything  there?  .  .  .  Like  a  gun?" 

A  gun?  Gun?  .  .  .  Nothing  new!  .  .  .  We  had 
been  hearing  guns,  seeing  sails — in  our  minds — all  the 
day !  All  day  .  .  .  guns  .  .  .  and  sail !  Boom-m-m-m ! 

"Gun!  Oh  God  ...  a  gun!  Capt'n,  a  gun,  d'ye 
hear!  Hay — Hay-H.  Out  oars,  there!  A  gun!" 
Hoarse  in  excitement  Jones  shook  the  old  man  and  called 
at  his  ear.  "Aye,  aye,  b'ye.  Aye,  aye,"  said  the  broken 
old  man,  seeming  without  understanding. 

Jones  ceased  trying  to  rouse  him,  and,  running  out  the 
steering  oar,  called  on  us  to  haul  the  sea-anchor  aboard. 
We  lay  to  our  oars,  listening  for  a  further  gunfire. 

Whooo-o.  .   .   .  Boom-m-m. 

A  rocket!  They  were  looking  for  us  then!  The 
pinnace  must  have  been  picked  up!  A  cheer — what  a 
cheer! — came  brokenly  from  our  lips;  and  we  lashed 


222  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

furiously  at  the  oars,  steering  to  where  a  glare  in  the 
mist  had  come  with  the  last  report. 

Roused  by  the  thrash  of  our  oars,  the  old  man  sat  up. 
"Whatt  now,  b'ye  ?  Whatt  now  ?" 

"Ship  firm'  rockets,  sir,"  said  Jones.  "Rockets  .  .  . 
no  mistake."  As  he  spoke,  another  coloured  streamer 
went  flaming  through  the  eastern  sky.  "Give  way,  there! 
We'll  miss  her  if  she's  running  south !  Give  way,  all !" 
The  glare  of  the  rocket  put  heart  into  our  broken  old 
skipper.  "Steady  now,  b'yes,"  he  said,  with  something 
of  his  old  enthusiasm. 

We  laboured  steadily  at  the  oars,  but  our  strength 
was  gone.  The  sea  too,  that  we  had  thought  moderate 
when  lying  to  sea-anchor,  came  at  us  broadside  on  and 
set  our  light  boat  to  a  furious  dance.  Wave  crests  broke 
and  lashed  aboard,  the  reeling  boat  was  soon  awash,  and 
the  spare  men  had  to  bale  frantically  to  keep  her  afloat. 
But  terror  of  the  ship  running  south  from  us  nerved  our 
wearied  arms,  and  we  kept  doggedly  swinging  the  oars. 
Soon  we  made  out  the  vessel's  sidelight — the  gleam  of 
her  starboard  light,  that  showed  that  she  was  hauled  to 
the  wind,  not  running  south  as  we  had  feared.  They  could 
not  see  on  such  a  night,  we  had  nothing  to  make  a  signal, 
but  the  faint  green  flame  gave  us  heart  in  our  distress. 

The  old  man,  himself  again,  was  now  steering,  giving 
us  Big  Jones  to  bear  at  the  oars.  As  we  drew  on  we 
made  out  the  loom  of  the  vessel's  sails — a  big  ship  under 
topsails  only,  and  sailing  slowly  to  the  west.  We  pulled 
down  wind  to  cross  her  course,  shouting  together  as  we 
rowed.  Would  they  never  hear?  .  .  .  Again!  .  .  . 
Again ! 

Suddenly  there  came  a  hail  from  the  ship,  a  roar  of 
orders,  rattle  of  blocks  and  gear,  the  yards  swung  round 
and  she  layed  up  in  the  wind,  while  the  ghostly  glare  of 
a  blue  light  lit  up  the  sea  around. 


THE  MERCHANTS'  CUP  223 

A  crowd  of  men  were  gathered  at  the  waist,  now 
shouting  and  cheering  as  we  laboured  painfully  into  the 
circle  of  vivid  light.  Among  them  a  big  man  (huge  he 
looked  in  that  uncanny  glare)  roared  encouragement  in 
hoarse  gutturals. 

Old  Schenke?    The  Hedwlg  Rickmers? 

Aye — Schenke!  But  a  different  Schenke  to  the  big, 
blustering,  overbearing  ''Square-head"  we  had  known  in 
'Frisco.  Schenke  as  kind  as  a  brother — a  brother  of  the 
sea  indeed.  Big,  fat,  honest  Schenke,  passing  his  huge 
arm  through  that  of  our  broken  old  skipper,  leading  him 
aft  to  his  own  bed,  and  silencing  his  faltering  story  by 
words  of  cheer.  "Ach,  du  lieber  Gott!  It  is  all  right, 
no?  All  right,  Cabtin,  now  you  come  on  board.  Ah 
know  all  'bout  it  I .  .  .Ah  pick  de  oder  boat  up  in  de  morn- 
ing, und  dey  tells  me.  You  come  af '  mit  me,  Cabtin .... 
Goot,  no?" 

"Ninety-six  days,  Schenke,  and  here  we  are  at  the 
mouth  of  the  Channel !"  Old  Burke  had  a  note  of  regret 
in  the  saying.  "Ninety-six  days !  Sure,  this  ship  o'  yours 
can  sail.  With  a  bit  o'  luck,  now,  ye'll  be  in  Falmouth 
under  the  hundred." 

"So.  If  de  vind  holds  goot.  Oh,  de  Hedwig  Rickmers 
is  a  goot  sheep,  no?  But  if  Ah  dond't  get  de  crew  of  de 
poor  lettle  Hilda  to  work  mein  sheep,  Ah  dond't  t'ink 
ve  comes  home  so  quick  as  hundert  days,  no?'" 

"God  bless  us,  man.  Shure,  it's  the  least  they  cud  do, 
now.  An'  you  kaaping'  us  in  food  an'  drink  an'  clothes, 
bedad — all  the  time." 

"Vat  Ah  do,  Cabtin.    Ah  leaf  you  starf e,  no  ?" 

"Oh.  Some  men  would  have  put  into  the  Falklands 
and  landed " 

"Und  spoil  a  goot  bassage,  eh?  Ach  nein.  More 
better  to  go  on.  You  know  dese  men  Ah  get  in  'Frisco 


224  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

is  no  goot.  Dem  "hoodlums,"  they  dond't  know  de 
sailorman  vork.  But  your  beoble  is  all  recht,  eh !  Gott ! 
If  Ah  dond't  haf  dem  here,  it  is  small  sail  ve  can  carry 
on  de  sheep." 

"Och,  now,  ye  just  say  that,  Schenke,  ye  just  say  that ! 
But  it's  glad  I  am  if  we're  any  use  t'  ye." 

"Hundert  days  to  Falmouth,  eh?"  Schenke  grinned  as 
he  said  it.  "Vat  'bout  dot  bett  now,  Cabtin?" 

"Oh  that,"  said  Burke  queerly.  "You  win,  of  course. 
I'm  not  quite  broke  yet,  Captain  Schenke.  I'll  pay  the 
twenty  dollars  all  right." 

"No,  no.  De  bett  is  not  von.  No?  De  bett  vass — 
'who  is  de  first  on  shore  come,'  Heimf  Goot.  Ven  de 
sheep  comes  to  Falmouth  ve  goes  on  shore,  you  und  me, 
together.  Like  dis,  eh?"  He  seized  Burke  by  the  arm 
and  made  a  motion  that  they  two  should  thus  step  out 
together. 

Burke,  shamefacedly,  said:    "Aye,  aye,  b'ye." 

"Ah  dond't  care  about  de  bett,"  continued  the  big 
German.  "De  bett  is  noting,  but,  look  here,  Cabtin — 
Ah  tell  you  Ah  look  to  vin  dot  Merchants'  Cup.  Gott! 
Ah  vass  verrickt  ven  your  boys  come  in  first.  Ach  so! 
Und  now  de  Cup  iss  at  de  bottom  of  de  Pacific."  He 
sighed  regretfully.  "Gott!  I  van't  t'  be  de  first  Sherman 
to  vin  dot  Cup  too !" 

The  mate  of  the  Rickmers  came  on  the  poop  and  said 
something  to  his  captain.  Schenke  turned  to  the  old  man 
in  some  wonderment.  .  .  .  "Vat  dis  is,  eh?  My  mate 
tell  me  dot  your  boys  is  want  to  speak  mit  me.  Vat  it  is, 
Cabtin?  No  troubles  I  hope?" 

Burke  looked  as  surprised  as  the  other.  "Send  them 
up,  Heinrich,"  he  said.  We,  the  crew  of  the  Hilda's  gig, 
filed  on  to  the  poop,  looking  as  hot  and  uncomfortable 
as  proper  sailorfolk  should  do  when  they  come  on  a 


THE  MERCHANTS7  CUP  225 

deputation.  Jones  headed  us,  and  he  carried  a  parcel 
under  his  arm. 

"Captain  Schenke,"  he  said.  uWe  are  all  here — the 
crew  of  the  Hilda's  gig,  that  you  picked  up  when — when — 
we  were  in  a  bad  way.  All  here  but  poor  Gregson." 
The  big  lad's  voice  broke  as  he  spoke  of  his  lost  watch- 
mate.  "An,  if  he  was  here  he  would  want  t'  thank  ye 
too  for  the  way  you've  done  by  us.  I  can't  say  any  more, 
Captain  Schenke — but  we  want  you  to  take  a  small  pres- 
ent from  us — the  crew  of  the  Hilda's  gig."  He  held  out 
the  parcel. 

Only  half  understanding  the  lad's  broken  words, 
Schenke  took  the  parcel  and  opened  it.  "Ach  Gott. 
Lieber  Gott"  he  said,  and  turned  to  show  the  gift  to 
old  Burke.  Tears  stood  in  the  big  "squarehead's"  eyes; 
stood,  and  rolled  unchecked  down  his  fat  cheeks.  Tears 
of  pleasure!  Tears  of  pity!  Stretched  between  his 
hands  was  a  weather-beaten  flag,  its  white  emblem  stained 
and  begrimed  by  sea-water ! 

A  tattered  square  of  blue  silk — the  flag  of  the  Mer- 
chants' Cup! 


A  STORM  AND  A  RESCUE 

From  "The  Wreck  of  the  Grosvenor" 
BY  W.  CLARK  RUSSELL 

A~JL  that  night  it  blew  terribly  hard,  and  raised  as 
wild  and  raging  a  sea  as  ever  I  remember  hearing 
or  seeing  described.  During  my  watch  —  that  is, 
from  midnight  until  four  o'clock  —  the  wind  veered  a 
couple  of  points,  but  had  gone  back  again  only  to  blow 
harder;  just  as  though  it  had  stepped  out  of  its  way  a 
trifle  to  catch  extra  breath. 

I  was  quite  worn  out  by  the  time  my  turn  came  to  go 
below;  and  though  the  vessel  was  groaning  like  a  live 
creature  in  its  death  agonies,  and  the  seas  thumping  against 
her  with  such  shocks  as  kept  me  thinking  that  she  was 
striking  hard  ground,  I  fell  asleep  as  soon  as  my  head 
touched  the  pillow,  and  never  moved  until  routed  out  by 
Duckling  four  hours  afterward. 

All  this  time  the  gale  had  not  bated  a  jot  of  its  vio- 
lence, and  the  ship  labored  so  heavily  that  I  had  the  ut- 
most difficulty  in  getting  out  of  the  cuddy  on  to  the  poop. 
When  I  say  that  the  decks  fore  and  aft  were  streaming 
wet,  I  convey  no  notion  of  the  truth:  the  main  deck  was 
simply  afloat,  and  every  time  the  ship  rolled,  the  water  on 
her  deck  rushed  in  a  wave  against  the  bulwarks  and  shot 
high  in  the  air,  to  mingle  sometimes  with  fresh  and  heavy 
inroads  of  the  sea,  both  falling  back  upon  the  deck  with 
the  boom  of  a  gun. 

I  had  already  ascertained  from  Duckling  that  the  well 
had  been  sounded  and  the  ship  found  dry;  and  therefore, 
since  we  were  tight  below,  it  mattered  little  what  water 

226 


A  STORM  AND  A  RESCUE  227 

was  shipped  above,  as  the  hatches  were  securely  battened 
down  fore  and  aft,  and  the  mast-coats  unwrung.  But  still 
she  labored  under  the  serious  disadvantage  of  being  over- 
loaded; and  the  result  was,  her  fore  parts  were  being  in- 
cessantly swept  by  seas  which  at  times  completely  hid  her 
forecastle  in  spray. 

Shortly  after  breakfast,  Captain  Coxon  sent  me  for- 
ward to  dispatch  a  couple  of  hands  on  to  the  jib-boom  to 
snug  the  inner  jib,  which  looked  to  be  rather  shakily 
stowed.  I  managed  to  dodge  the  water  on  the  main-deck 
by  waiting  until  it  rolled  to  the  starboard  scuppers  and 
then  cutting  ahead  as  fast  as  I  could;  but  just  as  I  got 
upon  the  forecastle,  I  was  saluted  by  a  green  sea  which 
carried  me  off  my  legs,  and  would  have  swept  me  down 
on  the  main-deck  had  I  not  held  on  stoutly  with  both  hands 
to  one  of  the  fore-shrouds.  The  water  nearly  drowned 
me,  and  kept  me  sneezing  and  coughing  for  ten  minutes 
afterward.  But  it  did  me  no  further  mischief;  for  I  was 
incased  in  good  oilskins  and  sou'-wester,  which  kept  me  as 
dry  as  a  bone  inside. 

Two  ordinary  seamen  got  upon  the  jib-boom,  and  I 
bade  them  keep  a  good  hold,  for  the  ship  sometimes 
danced  her  figurehead  under  water  and  buried  her  sprit- 
sail-yard;  and  when  she  sunk  her  stern,  her  flying  jib-boom 
stood  up  like  the  mizzenmast.  I  waited  until  this  job  of 
snugging  the  sail  was  finished,  and  then  made  haste  to  get 
off  the  forecastle,  where  the  seas  flew  so  continuously  and 
heavily  that  had  I  not  kept  a  sharp  lookout,  I  should  sev- 
eral times  have  been  knocked  overboard. 

Partly  out  of  curiosity  and  partly  with  a  wish  to  hearten 
the  men,  I  looked  into  the  forecastle  before  going  aft. 
There  were  sliding-doors  let  into  the  entrance  on  either 
side  the  windlass,  but  one  of  them  was  kept  half  open  to 
admit  air,  the  forescuttle  above  being  closed.  The  dark- 
ness here  was  made  visible  by  an  oil  lamp, —  in  shape  re- 


228  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 


sembling  a  tin  coffee-pot  with  a  wick  in  the  spout, —  whi 
burned  black  and  smokily.  The  deck  was  up  to  my  ankles 
in  water,  which  gurgled  over  the  pile  of  swabs  that  lay 
at  the  open  entrance.  It  took  my  eye  some  moments  to 
distinguish  objects  in  the  gloom;  and  then  by  degrees  the 
strange  interior  was  revealed.  A  number  of  hammocks 
were  swung  against  the  upper  deck  and  around  the  fore- 
castle were  two  rows  of  bunks,  one  atop  the  other.  Here 
and  there  were  sea-chests  lashed  to  the  deck;  and  these, 
with  the  huge  windlass,  a  range  of  chain  cable,  lengths  of 
rope,  odds  and  ends  of  pots  and  dishes,  with  here  a  pair 
of  breeches  hanging  from  a  hammock,  and  there  a  row  of 
oilskins  swinging  from  a  beam, —  pretty  well  made  up  all 
the  furniture  that  met  my  eye. 

The  whole  of  the  crew  were  below.  Some  of  the  men 
lay  smoking  in  their  bunks,  others  in  their  hammocks  with 
their  boots  over  the  edge ;  one  was  patching  a  coat,  another 
greasing  his  boots;  others  were  seated  in  a  group  talking; 
while  under  the  lamp  were  a  couple  of  men  playing  at 
cards  upon  a  chest,  three  or  four  watching  and  holding  on 
by  the  hammocks  over  their  heads. 

A  man,  lying  in  his  bunk  with  his  face  toward  me, 
started  up  and  sent  his  legs,  incased  in  blanket  trousers 
and  brown  woolen  stockings,  flying  out. 

"Here's  Mr.  Royle,  mates!"  he  called  out.  "Let's 
ask  him  the  name  of  the  port  the  captain  means  to  touch 
at  for  proper  food,  for  we  aren't  goin'  to  wait  much 
longer." 

"  Don't  ask  me  any  questions  of  that  kind,  my  lads," 
I  replied  promptly,  seeing  a  general  movement  of  heads 
in  the  bunks  and  hammocks.  "  I'd  give  you  proper  vic- 
tuals if  I  had  the  ordering  of  them;  and  I  have  spoken  to 
Captain  Coxon  about  you,  and  I  am  sure  he  will  see  this 
matter  put  to  rights." 

I  had  difficulty  in  making  my  voice  heard,  for  the  strik- 


A  STORM  AND  A  RESCUE  229 

ing  of  the  seas  against  the  ship's  bows  filled  the  place  with 
an  overwhelming  volume  of  sound;  and  the  hollow,  deaf- 
ening thunder  was  increased  by  the  uproar  of  the  ship's 
straining  timbers. 

:<  Who  the  devil  thinks,"  said  a  voice  from  a  hammock, 
"  that  we're  going  to  let  ourselves  be  grinded  as  we  was 
last  night  without  proper  wittles  to  support  us  ?  I'd  rather 
have  signed  articles  for  a  coal-barge,  with  drowned  rats 
to  eat  from  Gravesend  to  Whitstable,  than  shipped  in  this 
here  cursed  vessel,  where  the  bread's  just  fit  to  make  sav- 
ages retch!  " 

I  had  not  bargained  for  this,  but  had  merely  meant  to 
address  them  cheerily,  with  a  few  words  of  approval  of 
the  smart  way  in  which  they  had  worked  the  ship  in  the 
night.  Seeing  that  my  presence  would  do  no  good,  I 
turned  about  and  left  the  forecastle,  hearing,  as  I  came 
away,  one  of  the  Dutchmen  cry  out :  — 

"  Look  here,  Mister  Rile,  vill  you  be  pleashed  to  ssay 
when  we  are  to  hov'  something  to  eat?  —  for  by  Gott! 
ve  vill  kill  te  dom  pigs  in  the  long-boat  if  the  skipper  don't 
mindt  —  so  look  out !" 

As  ill-luck  would  have  it,  Captain  Coxon  was  at  the 
break  of  the  poop,  and  saw  me  come  out  of  the  forecastle. 
He  waited  until  he  had  got  me  alongside  of  him,  when  he 
asked  me  what  I  was  doing  among  the  men. 

"  I  looked  in  to  give  them  a  good  word  for  the  work 
they  did  last  night,"  I  answered. 

"  And  who  asked  you  to  give  them  a  good  word,  as 
you  call  it?" 

"  I  have  never  had  to  wait  for  orders  to  encourage  a 


crew." 


"  Mind  what  you  are  about,  sir!  "  he  exclaimed,  in  a 
voice  tremulous  with  rage.  "  I  see  through  your  game, 
and  I'll  put  a  stopper  upon  it  that  you  won't  like." 

"  What  game,  sir?    Let  me  have  your  meaning." 


230  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

"An  infernal  mutinous  game!"  he  roared.  "Don't 
talk  to  me,  sir !  I  know  you !  I've  had  my  eye  upon  you ! 
You'll  play  false  if  you  can,  and  are  trying  to  smother  up 
your  d — d  rebel  meanings  with  genteel  airs!  Get  away, 
sir !"  he  bellowed,  stamping  his  foot.  "Get  away  aft ! 
You're  a  lumping  useless  incumbrance!  But  by  thunder! 
I'll  give  you  two  for  every  one  you  try  to  give  me !  So 
stand  by!  " 

And  apparently  half  mad  with  his  rage,  he  staggered 
away  in  the  very  direction  in  which  he  had  told  me  to  go, 
and  stood  near  the  wheel,  glaring  upon  me  with  a  white 
face,  which  looked  indescribably  malevolent  in  the  fur  cap 
and  ear-protectors  that  ornamented  it. 

I  was  terribly  vexed  by  this  rudeness,  which  I  was 
powerless  to  resist,  and  regretted  my  indiscretion  in  enter- 
ing the  forecastle  after  the  politic  resolutions  I  had  formed. 
However,  Captain  Coxon's  ferocity  was  nothing  new  to 
me;  truly  I  believed  he  was  not  quite  right  in  his  mind, 
and  expected,  as  in  former  cases,  that  he  would  come 
round  a  bit  by-and-by  when  his  insane  temper  had  passed. 
Still  his  insinuations  were  highly  dangerous,  not  to  speak 
of  their  offensiveness.  It  was  no  joke  to  be  charged,  even 
by  a  madman,  with  striving  to  arouse  the  crew  to  mutiny. 
Nevertheless  I  tried  to  console  myself  as  best  I  could  by 
reflecting  that  he  could  not  prove  his  charges ;  that  I  need 
only  to  endure  his  insolence  for  a  few  weeks,  and  that 
there  was  always  a  law  to  vindicate  me  and  punish.- him, 
should  his  evil  temper  betray  him  into  any  acts  of  cruelty 
against  me. 

The  gale,  at  times  the  severest  that  I  was  ever  in,  lasted 
three  days;  during  which  the  ship  drove  something  like 
eighty  miles  to  the  northwest.  The  sea  on  the  afternoon 
of  the  third  day  was  appalling:  had  the  ship  attempted 
to  run,  she  would  have  been  pooped  and  smothered  in 
a  minute;  but  lying  close,  she  rode  fairly  well,  though 


A  STORM  AND  A  RESCUE  231 

there  were  moments  when  I  held  my  breath  as  she  sunk 
in  a  hollow  like  a  coal-mine,  filled  with  the  astounding 
noise  of  boiling  water,  —  really  believing  that  the  im- 
mense waves  which  came  hurtling  towards  us  with  solid, 
sharp,  transparent  ridges,  out  of  which  the  wind  tore 
lumps  of  water  and  flung  them  through  the  rigging  of  the 
ship,  must  overwhelm  the  vessel  before  she  could  rise 
to  it. 

The  fury  of  the  tempest  and  the  violence  of  the  sea, 
which  the  boldest  could  not  contemplate  without  feeling 
that  the  ship  was  every  moment  in  more  or  less  peril,  kept 
the  crew  subdued ;  and  they  eat  as  best  they  could  the  pro- 
visions, without  complaint.  However,  it  needed  nothing 
less  than  a  storm  to  keep  them  quiet:  for  on  the  second 
day  a  sea  extinguished  the  galley  fire,  and  until  the  gale 
abated  no  cooking  could  be  done;  so  that  the  men  had 
to  put  up  with  cold  water  and  biscuit.  Hence  all  hands 
were  thrown  upon  the  ship's  bread  for  two  days;  and  the 
badness  of  it,  therefore,  was  made  even  more  apparent 
than  heretofore,  when  its  wormy  moldiness  was  in  some 
degree  qualified  by  the  nauseousness  of  bad  salt  pork  and 
beef  and  the  sickly  flavor  of  damaged  tea. 

As  I  had  anticipated,  the  captain  came  round  a  little 
a  few  hours  after  his  insulting  attack  upon  me.  I  think 
his  temper  frightened  him  when  it  had  reference  to  me. 
Like  others  of  his  breed,  he  was  a  bit  of  a  cur  at  the  bot- 
tom. My  character  was  a  trifle  beyond  him;  and  he  was 
ignorant  enough  to  hate  and  fear  what  he  could  not  under- 
stand. Be  this  as  it  may,  he  made  some  rough  attempts 
at  a  rude  kind  of  politeness  when  I  went  below  to  get 
some  grog,  and  condescended  to  say  that  when  I  had  been 
to  sea  as  long  as  he,  I  would  know  that  the  most  ungrate- 
ful rascals  in  the  world  were  sailors;  that  every  crew  he 
had  sailed  with  had  always  taken  care  to  invent  some 
grievance  to  growl  over:  either  the  provisions  were  bad, 


232  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

or  the  work  too  heavy,  or  the  ship  unseaworthy;  and  that 
long  ago  he  had  made  up  his  mind  never  to  pay  attention 
to  their  complaints,  since  no  sooner  would  one  wrong  be 
redressed  than  another  would  be  coined  and  shoved  under 
his  nose. 

I  took  this  opportunity  of  assuring  him  that  I  had  never 
willingly  listened  to  the  complaints- of  the  men,  and  that 
I  was  always  annoyed  when  they  spoke  to  me  about  the 
provisions,  as  I  had  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  that  mat- 
ter; and  that  so  far  from  my  wishing  to  stir  up  the  men 
into  rebellion,  my  conduct  had  been  uniformly  influenced 
by  the  desire  to  conciliate  them  and  represent  their  con- 
ditions as  very  tolerable,  so  as  to  repress  any  tendency  to 
disaffection  which  they  might  foment  among  themselves. 

To  this  he  made  no  reply,  and  soon  we  parted ;  but  all 
the  next  day  he  was  sullen  again,  and  never  addressed  me 
save  to  give  an  order. 

On  the  evening  of  the  third  day  the  gale  broke;  the 
glass  had  risen  since  the  morning;  but  until  the  first  dog- 
watch the  wind  did  not  bate  one  iota  of  its  violence,  and 
the  horizon  still  retained  its  stormy  and  threatening  aspect. 
The  clouds  then  broke  in  the  west,  and  the  setting  sun 
shone  forth  with  deep  crimson  light  upon  the  wilderness 
of  mountainous  waters.  The  wind  fell  quickly,  then  went 
round  to  the  west  and  blew  freshly;  but  there  was  a  re- 
markable softness  and  sweetness  in  the  feel  and  taste 
of  it. 

A  couple  of  reefs  were  at  once  shaken  out  of  the  main- 
topsail,  and  a  sail  made.  By  midnight  the  heavy  sea  had 
subsided  into  a  deep,  long,  rolling  swell,  still  (strangely 
enough)  coming  from  the  south;  but  the  fresh  westerly 
wind  held  the  ship  steady,  and  for  the  first  time  for  nearly 
a  hundred  hours  we  were  able  to  move  about  the  decks 
with  comparative  comfort.  Early  the  next  morning  the 
watch  were  set  to  wash  down  and  clear  up  the  decks;  and 


A  STORM  AND  A  RESCUE  233 

when  I  left  my  cabin  at  eight  o'clock,  I  found  the  weather 
bright  and  warm,  with  a  blue  sky  shining  among  heavy, 
white,  April-looking  clouds,  and  the  ship  making  seven 
knots  under  all  plain  sail.  The  decks  were  dry  and  com- 
fortable, and  the  ship  had  a  habitable  and  civilized  look, 
by  reason  of  the  row  of  clothes  hung  by  the  seamen  to  dry 
on  the  forecastle. 

It  was  half  past  nine  o'clock,  and  I  was  standing  near 
the  taffrail  looking  at  a  shoal  of  porpoises  playing  some 
hundreds  of  feet  astern,  when  the  man  who  was  steering 
asked  me  to  look  in  the  direction  to  which  he  pointed  — 
that  was,  a  little  to  the  right  of  the  bowsprit  —  and  say  if 
there  was  anything  to  be  seen  there;  for  he  had  caught 
sight  of  something  black  upon  the  horizon  twice,  but  could 
not  detect  it  now. 

I  turned  my  eyes  toward  the  quarter  of  the  sea  indicated, 
but  could  discern  nothing  whatever;  and  telling  him  that 
what  he  had  seen  was  probably  a  wave,  which,  standing 
higher  than  his  fellows,  will  sometimes  show  black  a  long 
distance  off,  walked  to  the  fore  part  of  the  poop. 

The  breeze  still  held  good;  and  the  vessel  was  slipping 
easily  through  the  water,  though  the  southerly  swell  made 
her  roll  and  at  times  shook  the  wind  out  of  the  sails.  The 
skipper  had  gone  to  lie  down,  —  being  pretty  well  ex- 
hausted, I  daresay;  for  he  had  kept  the  xd£Ck  f°r  the 
greater  part  of  three  nights  running.  Duckling  was  also 
below.  Most  of  my  watch  were  on  the  forecastle,  sitting 
or  lying  in  the  sun,  which  shone  very  warm  upon  the  decks ; 
the  hens  under  the  long-boat  were  chattering  briskly,  and 
the  cocks  crowing,  and  the  pigs  grunting,  with  the  com- 
fort of  the  warmth. 

Suddenly,  as  the  ship  rose,  I  distinctly  beheld  some- 
thing black  out  away  upon  the  horizon,  showing  just  under 
the  foot  of  the  foresail.  It  vanished  instantly;  but  I  was 
not  satisfied,  and  went  for  the  glass  which  lay  upon  the 


234  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

brackets  just  under  the  companion.  I  then  told  the  man 
who  was  steering  to  keep  her  away  a  couple  of  points  for 
a  few  moments ;  and  resting  the  glass  against  the  mizzen- 
royal  backstay,  pointed  it  toward  the  place  where  I  had 
seen  the  black  object. 

For  some  moments  nothing  but  sea  or  sky  filled  the 
field  of  the  glass  as  the  ship  rose  and  fell;  but  all  at  once 
there  leaped  into  this  field  the  hull  of  a  ship,  deep  as  her 
main-chains  in  the  water,  which  came  and  went  before 
my  eye  as  the  long  seas  lifted  or  dropped  in  the  fore- 
ground. I  managed  to  keep  her  sufficiently  long  in  view 
to  perceive  that  she  was  totally  dismasted. 

"  It's  a  wreck,"  said  I,  turning  to  the  man :  "  let  her 
come  to  again  and  luff  a  point.  There  may  be  living  crea- 
tures aboard  of  her." 

Knowing  what  sort  of  man  Captain  Coxon  was,  I  do 
not  think  that  I  should  have  had  the  hardihood  to  luff 
the  ship  a  point  out  of  her  course  had  it  involved  the  brac- 
ing of  the  yards;  for  the  songs  of  the  men  would  certainly 
have  brought  him  on  deck,  and  I  might  have  provoked 
some  ugly  insolence.  But  the  ship  was  going  free,  and 
would  head  more  westerly  without  occasioning  further 
change  than  slightly  slackening  the  weather-braces  of  the 
upper  yards.  This  I  did  quietly;  and  the  dismantled  hull 
was  brought  right  dead  on  end  with  our  flying  jib-boom. 
The  men  now  caught  sight  of  her,  and  began  to  stare  and 
point;  but  did  not  sing  out,  as  they  saw  by  the  telescope 
in  my  hand  that  I  perceived  her.  The  breeze  unhappily 
began  to  slacken  somewhat,  owing  perhaps  to  the  gathering 
heat  of  the  sun;  our  pace  fell  off:  and  a  full  hour  passed 
before  we  brought  the  wreck  near  enough  to  see  her  per- 
manently, —  for  up  to  this  she  had  been  constantly  van- 
ishing under  the  rise  of  the  swell.  She  was  now  about  two 
miles  off,  and  I  took  a  long  and  steady  look  at  her  through  j 
the  telescope.  It  was  a  black  hull  with  painted  ports.  I 


A  STORM  AND  A  RESCUE  235 

The  deck  was  flush  fore  and  aft,  and  there  was  a  good- 
sized  house  just  before  where  the  mainmast  should  have 
been.  This  house  was  uninjured,  though  the  galley  was 
split  up,  and  to  starboard  stood  up  in  splinters  like  the 
stump  of  a  tree  struck  by  lightning.  No  boats  could  be 
seen  aboard  of  her.  Her  jib-boom  was  gone,  and  so  were 
all  three  masts,  —  clean  cut  off  at  the  deck,  as  though  a 
hand-saw  had  done  it;  but  the  mizzenmast  was  alongside, 
held  by  the  shrouds  and  backstays,  and  the  port  main  and 
fore  shrouds  streamed  like  serpents  from  her  chains  into 
the  water.  I  reckoned  at  once  that  she  must  be  loaded 
with  timber,  for  she  never  could  keep  afloat  at  that  depth 
with  any  other  kind  of  cargo  in  her. 

She  made  a  most  mournful  and  piteous  object  in  the 
sunlight,  sluggishly  rolling  to  the  swell  which  ran  in  trans- 
parent volumes  over  her  sides  and  foamed  around  the 
deck-house.  Once  when  her  stern  rose.  I  read  the  name 
Cecilia  in  broad  white  letters. 

I  was  gazing  intently,  in  the  effort  to  witness  some  in- 
dication of  living  thing  on  board,  when,  to  my  mingled 
consternation  and  horror,  I  witnessed  an  arm  projecting 
through  the  window  of  the  deck-house  and  frantically 
waving  what  resembled  a  white  handkerchief.  As  none 
of  the  men  called  out,  I  judged  the  signal  was  not  percep- 
tible to  the  naked  eye;  and  in  my  excitement  I  shouted, 
*  There's  a  living  man  on  board  of  her,  my  lads!" 
dropped  the  glass,  and  ran  aft  to  call  the  captain. 

I  met  him  coming  up  the  companion  ladder.  The  first 
thing  he  said  was,  "  You're  out  of  your  course,"  and 
looked  up  at  the  sails. 

'  There's  a  wreck  yonder,"  I  cried,  pointing  eagerly, 
"  with  a  man  on  board  signaling  to  us." 

"  Get  me  the  glass,"  he  said  sulkily;  and  I  picked  it  up 
and  handed  it  to  him. 

He  looked  at  the  wreck  for  some  moments;  and  address- 


236  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

ing  the  man  at  the  wheel,  exclaimed,  making  a  movement 
with  his  hand,  "  Keep  her  away!  Where  in  the  devil  are 
you  steering  to?  " 

"  Good  heaven!"  I  ejaculated:  "there's  a  man  on 
board  —  there  may  be  others !  " 

"  Damnation!  "  he  exclaimed  between  his  teeth:  "  what 
do  you  mean  by  interfering  with  me?  Keep  her  away!  " 
he  roared  out. 

During  this  time  we  had  drawn  sufficiently  near  to 
the  wreck  to  enable  the  sharper-sighted  among  the  hands 
to  remark  the  signal,  and  they  were  calling  out  that  there 
was  somebody  flying  a  handkerchief  aboard  the  hull. 

"  Captain  Coxon,"  said  I,  with  as  firm  a  voice  as  I  could 
command,  —  for  I  was  nearly  in  as  great  a  rage  as  he, 
and  rendered  insensible  to  all  consequences  by  his  inhu- 
manity, —  "  if  you  bear  away  and  leave  that  man  yonder 
to  sink  with  that  wreck  when  he  can  be  saved  with  very 
little  trouble,  you  will  become  as  much  a  murderer  as  any 
ruffian  who  stabs  a  man  asleep." 

When  I  had  said  this,  Coxon  turned  black  in  the  face 
with  passion.  His  eyes  protruded,  his  hands  and  fingers 
worked  as  though  he  were  under  some  electrical  process, 
and  I  saw  for  the  first  time  in  my  life  a  sight  I  had  always 
laughed  at  as  a  bit  of  impossible  novelist  description,  - 
a  mouth  foaming  with  rage.  He  rushed  aft,  just  over 
Duckling's  cabin,  and  stamped  with  all  his  might. 

"  Now,"  thought  I,  "  they  may  try  to  murder  me!  " 
And  without  a  word  I  pulled  off  my  coat,  seized  a  belay- 
ing-pin,  and  stood  ready;  resolved  that  happen  what  might, 
I  would  give  the  first  man  who  should  lay  his  fingers  on 
me  something  to  remember  me  by  while  he  had  breath 
in  his  body. 

The  men,  not  quite  understanding  what  was  happening, 
but  seeing  that  a  "  row  "  was  taking  place,  came  to  the 
forecastle  and  advanced  by  degrees  along  the  main-deck. 


A  STORM  AND  A  RESCUE  237 

Among  them  I  noticed  the  cook,  muttering  to  one  or  the 
other  who  stood  near. 

Mr.  Duckling,  awakened  by  the  violent  clattering  over 
his  head,  came  running  up  the  companion-way  with  a  be- 
wildered, sleepy  look  in  his  face.  The  captain  grasped 
him  by  the  arm,  and  pointing  to  me,  cried  out  with  an  oath 
that  "  that  villain  was  breeding  a  mutiny  on  board,  and 
he  believed  wanted  to  murder  him  and  Duckling/' 

I  at  once  answered,  "  Nothing  of  the  kind !  There  is 
a  man  miserably  perishing  on  board  that  sinking  wreck, 
Mr.  Duckling,  and  he  ought  to  be  saved.  My  lads!  "  I 
cried,  addressing  the  men  on  the  main-deck,  "  is  there  a 
sailor  among  you  all  who  would  have  the  heart  to  leave 
that  man  yonder  without  an  effort  to  rescue  him?  " 

"  No,  sir!"  shouted  one  of  them.  "  We'll  save  the 
man;  and  if  the  skipper  refuses,  we'll  make  him!  " 

"  Luff !  "  I  called  to  the  man  at  the  wheel. 

"  Luff  at  your  peril !"  screamed  the  skipper. 

"  Aft  here,  some  hands,"  I  cried,  u  and  lay  the  main- 
yard  aback.  Let  go  the  port  main-braces !  " 

The  captain  came  running  toward  me. 

"  By  the  living  God !  "  I  cried  in  a  fury,  grasping  the 
heavy  brass  belaying-pin,  "  if  you  come  within  a  foot  of 
me,  Captain  Coxon,  I'll  dash  your  brains  out!  " 

My  attitude,  my  enraged  face  and  menacing  gesture, 
produced  the  desired  effect.  He  stopped  dead,  turned  a 
ghastly  white,  and  looked  round  at  Duckling. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  this  (etc.)  conduct,  you  (etc.) 
mutinous  scoundrels?"  roared  Duckling,  with  a  volley  of 
foul  language. 

"  Give  him  one  for  himself  if  he  says  too  much,  Mr. 
Royle ! "  sung  out  some  hoarse  voice  on  the  main-deck ; 
"  we'll  back  yer !  "  And  then  came  cries  of  "  They're  a 
cursed  pair  o'  murderers!"  "Who  run  the  smack 
down?  "  "  Who  lets  men  drown?  "  "  Who  starves  hon- 


238  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

est  men  ?  "    This  last  exclamation  was  followed  by  a  roar. 

The  whole  of  the  crew  were  now  on  deck,  having  been 
aroused  by  our  voices.  Some  of  them  were  looking  on 
with  a  grin,  others  with  an  expression  of  fierce  curiosity. 
It  was  at  once  understood  that  I  was  making  a  stand 
against  the  captain  and  chief  mate;  and  a  single  glance 
at  them  assured  me  that  by  one  word  I  could  set  the  whole 
of  them  on  fire  to  do  my  bidding,  even  to  shedding  blood. 

In  the  meantime,  the  man  at  the  wheel  had  luffed  until 
the  weather  leeches  were  flat  and  the  ship  scarcely  moving. 
And  at  this  moment,  that  the  skipper  might  know  their 
meaning,  a  couple  of  hands  jumped  aft  and  let  go  the 
weather  main-braces.  I  took  care  to  keep  my  eyes  on 
Coxon  and  the  mate,  fully  prepared  for  any  attack  that 
one  or  both  might  make  on  me.  Duckling  eyed  me  furi- 
ously but  in  silence,  evidently  baffled  by  my  resolute  air 
and  the  position  of  the  men.  Then  he  said  something 
to  the  captain,  who  looked  exhausted  and  white  and  hag- 
gard with  his  useless  passion.  They  walked  over  to  the 
lee  side  of  the  poop;  and  after  a  short  conference,  the  ca] 
tain  to  my  surprise  went  below,  and  Duckling  came  foi 
ward. 

"  There's  no  objection,"  he  said,  "  to  your  saving  the 
man's  life,  if  you  want.     Lower  away  the  starboard  qi 
ter-boat,  —  and  you  go  along  in  her,"  he  added  to  * 
uttering  the  last  words  in  such  a  thick  voice  that  I  thcu, 
he  was  choking. 

"  Come  along,  some  of  you !  "  I  cried  out,  hastily  put- 
ting on  my  coat ;  and  in  less  than  a  minute  I  was  in  th( 
boat  with  the  rudder  and  thole-pins  shipped,  and  foui 
hands  ready  to  out  oars  as  soon  as  we  touched  the  water. 

Duckling  began  to  fumble  at  one  end  of  the  boat's 
falls. 

"  Don't  let  him  lower  away!  n  roared  out  one  of  the 


A  STORM  AND  A  RESCUE  239 

men  in  the  boat.  "  He'll  let  us  go  with  a  run.  He'd  like 
to  see  us  drowned !  " 

Duckling  fell  back,  scowling  with  fury;  and  shoving 
his  head  over  as  the  boat  sunk  quietly  into  the  water,  he 
discharged  a  volley  of  execrations  at  us,  saying  that  he 
would  shoot  some  of  us,  if  he  swung  for  it,  before  he  was 
done,  and  especially  applying  a  heap  of  abusive  terms  to 
me. 

The  fellow  pulling  the  bow  oar  laughed  in  his  face; 
and  another  shouted  out,  "  We'll  teach  you  to  say  your 
prayers  yet,  you  ugly  old  sinner!" 

We  got  away  from  the  ship's  side  cleverly,  and  in  a 
short  time  were  rowing  fast  for  the  wreck.  The  excite- 
ment under  which  I  labored  made  me  reckless  of  the  issue 
of  this  adventure.  The  sight  of  the  lonely  man  upon  the 
wreck,  coupled  with  the  unmanly,  brutal  intention  of 
Coxon  to  leave  him  to  his  fate,  had  goaded  me  into  a 
state  of  mind  infuriate  enough  to  have  done  and  dared 
anything  to  compel  Coxon  to  save  him.  He  might  call 
it  mutiny,  but  I  called  it  humanity;  and  I  was  prepared 
to  stand  or  fall  by  my  theory.  The  hate  the  crew  had  for 
their  captain  and  chief  mate  was  quite  strong  enough  to 
guarantee  me  against  any  foul  play  on  the  part  of  Coxon ; 
otherwise  I  might  have  prepared  myself  to  see  the  ship 

and  stand  away,  and  leave  us  alone  on  the  sea  with  the 

°ck.  One  of  the  men  in  the  boat  suggested  this;  but 
iinother  immediately  answered,  "  They'd  pitch  the  skipper 
overboard  if  he  gave  such  an  order,  and  glad  o'  the  chance. 
There's  no  love  for  'em  among  us,  I  can  tell  you;  and  by 

!  there'll  be  bloody  work  done  aboard  the  Grosvenor 

if  things  aren't  mended  soon,  as  you'll  see." 

They  all  four  pulled  at  their  oars  savagely  as  these 
words  were  spoken;  and  I  never  saw  such  sullen  and  fe- 
rocious expressions  on  men's  faces  as  came  into  theirs,  as 
they  fixed  their  eyes  as  with  one  accord  upon  the  ship. 


240  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

She,  deep  as  she  was,  looked  a  beautiful  model  on  the 
mighty  surface  of  the  water,  rolling  with  marvelous  grace 
to  the  swell,  the  strength  and  volume  of  which  made  me 
feel  my  littleness  and  weakness  as  it  lifted  the  small  boat 
with  irresistible  power.  There  was  wind  enough  to  keep 
her  sails  full  upon  her  graceful,  slender  masts,  and  the 
brass-work  upon  her  deck  flashed  brilliantly  as  she  rolled 
from  side  to  side. 

Strange  contrast,  to  look  from  her  to  the  broken  and 
desolate  picture  ahead!  My  eyes  were  riveted  upon  it 
now  with  new  and  intense  emotion,  for  by  this  time  I  could 
discern  that  the  person  who  was  waving  to  us  was  a  female, 
—  woman  or  girl  I  could  not  yet  make  out, ' —  and  that 
her  hair  was  like  a  veil  of  gold  behind  her  swaying  arm. 

"  It's  a  woman!  "  I  cried  in  my  excitement;  "  it's  no 
man  at  all.  Pull  smartly,  my  lads!  pull  smartly,  for  God's 
sake!" 

The  men  gave  way  stoutly,  and  the  swell  favoring  us, 
we  were  soon  close  to  the  wreck.  The  girl,  as  I  now  per- 
ceived she  was,  waved  her  handkerchief  wildly  as  we  ap- 
proached; but  my  attention  was  occupied  in  considering 
how  we  could  best  board  the  wreck  without  injury  to  the 
boat.  She  lay  broadside  to  us,  with  her  stern  on  our  right, 
and  was  not  only  rolling  heavily  with  wallowing,  squelch- 
ing movements,  but  was  swirling  the  heavy  mizzenmast 
that  lay  alongside  through  the  water  each  time  she  went 
over  to  starboard;  so  that  it  was  necessary  to  approach 
her  with  the  greatest  caution  to  prevent  our  boat  from 
being  stove  in.  Another  element  of  danger  was  the  great 
flood  of  water  which  she  took  in  over  her  shattered  bul- 
warks, first  on  this  side,  then  on  that,  discharging  the  tor- 
rent again  into  the  sea  as  she  rolled.  This  water  came 
from  her  like  a  cataract,  and  in  a  second  would  fill  and 
sink  the  boat,  unless  extreme  care  were  taken  to  keep  clear 
of  it. 


A  STORM  AND  A  RESCUE  241 

I  waved  my  hat  to  the  poor  girl,  to  let  her  know  that 
we  saw  her  and  had  come  to  save  her,  and  steered  the  boat 
right  around  the  wreck,  that  I  might  observe  the  most 
practical  point  for  boarding  her. 

She  appeared  to  be  a  vessel  of  about  seven  hundred 
tons.  The  falling  of  her  masts  had  crushed  her  port  bul- 
warks level  with  the  deck,  and  part  of  her  starboard  bul- 
warks was  also  smashed  to  pieces.  Her  wheel  was  gone, 
and  the  heavy  seas  that  had  swept  her  deck  had  carried 
away  capstans,  binnacle,  hatchway  gratings,  pumps  — 
everything,  in  short,  but  the  deck-house  and  the  remnants 
of  the  galley.  I  particularly  noticed  a  strong  iron  boat's- 
davit  twisted  up  like  a  corkscrew.  She  was  full  of  water, 
nnd  lay  as  deep  as  her  main-chains;  but  her  bows  stood 
high,  and  her  fore-chains  were  out  of  the  sea.  It  was  mi- 
raculous to  see  her  keep  afloat  as  the  long  swell  rolled  over 
her  in  a  cruel,  foaming  succession  of  waves. 

Though  these  plain  details  impressed  themselves  upon 
my  memory,  I  did  not  seem  to  notice  anything,  in  the 
anxiety  that  possessed  me  to  rescue  the  lonely  creature  in 
the  deck-house.  It  would  have  been  impossible  to  keep 
a  footing  upon  the  main-deck  without  a  life-line  or  some- 
thing to  hold  on  by;  and  seeing  this,  and  forming  my  res- 
olutions rapidly,  I  ordered  the  man  in  the  bow  of  the  boat 
to  throw  in  his  oar  and  exchange  places  with  me,  and  head 
the  boat  for  the  starboard  port-chains.  As  we  approached 
I  stood  up  with  one  foot  planted  on  the  gunwale  ready  to 
spring;  the  broken  shrouds  were  streaming  aft  and  along- 
side, so  that  if  I  missed  the  jump  and  fell  into  the  water 
there  was  plenty  of  stuff  to  catch  hold  of. 

"Gently — Vast  rowing  —  ready  to  back  astern 
smartly !  "  I  cried  as  we  approached.  I  waited  a  mo- 
ment: the  hull  rolled  toward  us,  and  the  succeeding  swell 
threw  up  our  boat;  the  deck,  though  all  aslant,  was  on  a 
line  with  my  feet.  I  sprung  with  all  my  strength,  and  got 


242  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

well  upon  the  deck,  but  fell  heavily  as  I  reached  it.  How- 
ever, I  was  up  again  in  a  moment,  and  ran  forward  out  of 
the  water. 

Here  was  a  heap  of  gear  —  stay-sail,  and  jib-halyards, 
and  other  ropes,  some  of  the  ends  swarming  overboard. 
I  hauled  in  one  of  these  ends,  but  found  I  could  not  clear 
the  raffle;  but  looking  round,  I  perceived  a  couple  of  coils 
of  line  —  spare  stun'-sail  tacks  or  halyards  I  took  them 
to  be  —  lying  close  against  the  foot  of  the  bowsprit.  I 
immediately  seized  the  end  of  one  of  these  coils,  and  flung 
it  into  the  boat,  telling  them  to  drop  clear  of  the  wreck 
astern;  and  when  they  found  they  had  backed  as  far  as 
the  length  of  the  line  permitted,  I  bent  on  the  end  of  the 
other  coil,  and  paid  that  out  until  the  boat  was  some 
fathoms  astern.  I  then  made  my  end  fast,  and  sung  out 
to  one  of  the  men  to  get  on  board  by  the  starboard  mizzen- 
chains,  and  to  bring  the  end  of  the  line  with  him.  After 
waiting  a  few  minutes,  the  boat  being  hidden,  I  saw  the 
fellow  come  scrambling  over  the  side  with  a  red  face, 
his  clothes  and  hair  streaming,  he  having  fallen  overboard. 
He  shook  himself  like  a  dog,  and  crawled  with  the  line, 
on  his  hands  and  knees,  a  short  distance  forward,  then 
hauled  the  line  taut  and  made  it  fast. 

"  Tell  them  to  bring  the  boat  round  here,"  I  cried,  "  and 
lay  off  on  their  oars  until  we  are  ready.  And  you  get  hold 
of  this  line  and  work  yourself  up  to  me." 

Saying  which,  I  advanced  along  the  deck,  clinging 
tightly  with  both  hands.  It  very  providentially  happened 
that  the  door  of  the  deck-house  faced  the  forecastle  with- 
in a  few  feet  of  where  the  remains  of  the  galley  stood. 
There  would  be,  therefore,  less  risk  in  opening  it  than 
had  it  faced  beamwise :  for  the  water,  as  it  broke  against 
the  sides  of  the  house,  disparted  clear  of  the  fore  and 
after  parts;  that  is,  the  great  bulk  of  it  ran  clear,  though 


A  STORM  AND  A  RESCUE  243 

of  course  a  foot's  depth  of  it  as  least  surged  against  the 
door. 

I  called  out  to  the  girl  to  open  the  door  quickly,  as  it 
slid  in  grooves  like  a  panel,  and  was  not  to  be  stirred  from 
the  outside.  The  poor  creature  appeared  mad;  and  I  re- 
peated my  request  three  times  without  inducing  her  to 
leave  the  window.  Then,  not  believing  that  she  under- 
stood me,  I  cried  out,  "  Are  you  English?  " 

'  Yes,"  she  replied.     "  For  God's  sake,  save  us !  " 

"  I  cannot  get  you  through  that  window,"  I  exclaimed. 
"  Rouse  yourself  and  open  that  door,  and  I  will  save 
you." 

She  now  seemed  to  comprehend,  and  drew  in  her  head. 
By  this  time  the  man  out  of  the  boat  had  succeeded  in 
sliding  along  the  rope  to  where  I  stood,  though  the  poor 
devil  was  nearly  drowned  on  the  road;  for  when  about 
half-way,  the  hull  took  in  a  lump  of  swell  which  swept 
him  right  off  his  legs,  and  he  was  swung  hard  a-starboard, 
holding  on  for  his  life.  However,  he  recovered  himself 
smartly  when  the  water  was  gone,  and  came  along  hand 
over  fist,  snorting  and  cursing  in  wonderful  style. 

Meanwhile,  though  I  kept  a  firm  hold  of  the  life-line, 
I  took  care  to  stand  where  the  inroads  of  water  were  not 
heavy,  waiting  impatiently  for  the  door  to  open.  It  shook 
in  the  grooves,  tried  by  a  feeble  hand;  then  a  desperate 
effort  was  made,  and  it  slid  a  couple  of  inches. 

"  That  will  do !  "  I  shouted.  "  Now  then,  my  lad,  catch 
hold  of  me  with  one  hand,  and  the  line  with  the  other." 

The  fellow  took  a  firm  grip  of  my  monkey-jacket,  and 
I  made  for  the  door.  The  water  washed  up  to  my  knees, 
but  I  soon  inserted  my  fingers  in  the  crevice  of  the  door 
and  thrust  it  open. 

The  house  was  a  single  compartment,  though  I  had  ex- 
pected to  find  it  divided  into  two.  In  the  centre  was  a  table 
that  traveled  on  stanchions  from  the  roof  to  the  deck, 


244  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

On  either  side  were  a  couple  of  bunks.  The  girl  stood 
near  the  door.  In  a  bunk  to  the  left  of  the  door  lay  an 
old  man  with  white  hair.  Prostrate  on  his  back,  on  the 
deck,  with  his  arms  stretched  against  his  ears,  was  the 
corpse  of  a  man,  well  dressed ;  and  in  a  bunk  on  the  right 
sat  a  sailor,  who,  when  he  saw  me,  yelled  out  and  snapped 
his  fingers,  making  horrible  grimaces. 

Such,  in  brief,  was  the  coup  d'oeil  of  that  weird  interior 
as  it  met  my  eyes. 

I  seized  the  girl  by  the  arm. 

"You  first,"  said  I.  "Come;  there  is  no  time  to  be 
lost." 

But  she  shrunk  back,  pressing  against  the  door  with 
her  hand  to  prevent  me  from  pulling  her,  crying  in  a 
husky  voice,  and  looking  at  the  old  man  with  the  white 
hair,  "My  father  first!  my  father  first!" 

"You  shall  all  be  saved,  but  you  must  obey  me.  Quickly 
now!"  I  exclaimed  passionately;  for  a  heavy  sea  at  that 
moment  flooded  the  ship,  and  a  rush  of  water  swamped 
the  house  through  the  open  door  and  washed  the  corpse 
on  the  deck  up  into  a  corner. 

Grasping  her  firmly,  I  lifted  her  off  her  feet,  and  went 
staggering  to  the  life-rope,  slinging  her  light  body  over  my 
shoulder  as  I  went.  Assisted  by  my  man,  I  gained  the 
bow  of  the  wreck,  and  hailing  the  boat,  ordered  it  along- 
side. 

"One  of  you,"  cried  I,  "stand  ready  to  receive  this  lady 
when  I  give  the  signal." 

I  then  told  the  man  who  was  with  me  to  jump  into  the 
forechains,  which  he  instantly  did.  The  wreck  lurched 
heavily  to  port.  "Stand  by,  my  lads !"  I  shouted.  Over 
she  came  again,  with  the  water  swooping  along  the  main- 
deck.  The  boat  rose  high,  and  the  forechains  were  sub- 
merged to  the  height  of  the  man's  knees.  "Now!"  I 
called,  and  lifted  the  girl  over.  She  was  seized  by  the 


A  STORM  AND  A  RESCUE  245 

man  in  the  chains,  and  pushed  toward  the  boat;  the  fel- 
low standing  in  the  bow  of  the  boat  caught  her,  and  at 
the  same  moment  down  sunk  the  boat,  and  the  wreck  rolled 
wearily  over.  But  the  girl  was  safe. 

"Hurrah,  my  lad!"  I  sung  out.  "Up  with  you,— 
there  are  others  remaining;"  and  I  went  sprawling  along 
the  line  to  the  deck-house,  there  to  encounter  another 
rush  of  water,  which  washed  as  high  as  my  thighs,  and 
fetched  me  such  a  thump  in  the  stomach  that  I  thought 
I  must  have  died  of  suffocation. 

I  was  glad  to  find  that  the  old  man  had  got  out  of  his 
bunk,  and  was  standing  at  the  door. 

"Is  my  poor  girl  safe,  sir?"  he  exclaimed,  with  the 
same  huskiness  of  voice  that  had  grated  so  unpleasantly 
in  the  girl's  tone. 

"Quite  safe;  come  along." 

"Thanks  be  to  Almighty  God!"  he  ejaculated,  and 
burst  into  tears. 

I  seized  hold  of  his  thin  cold  hands,  but  shifted  my 
fingers  to  catch  him  by  the  coat  collar,  so  as  to  exert  more 
power  over  him;  and  handed  him  along  the  deck,  telling 
my  companion  to  lay  hold  of  the  seaman  and  fetch  him 
away  smartly.  We  managed  to  escape  the  water,  for  the 
poor  old  gentleman  bestired  himself  very  nimbly,  and  I 
helped  him  over  the  fore-chains;  and  when  the  boat  rose, 
tumbled  him  into  her  without  ceremony.  I  saw  the 
daughter  leap  toward  him  and  clasp  him  in  her  arms;  but 
I  was  soon  again  scrambling  on  to  the  deck,  having  heard 
cries  from  my  man,  accompanied  with  several  loud  curses, 
mingled  with  dreadful  yells. 

"He's  bitten  me,  sir!"  cried  by  companion,  hauling  him- 
self away  from  the  deck-house.  "He's  roaring  mad." 

"It  can't  be  helped,"  I  answered.  "We  must  get  him 
out." 

He  saw  me  pushing  along  the  life-line,  plucked  up  heart, 


246  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

and  went  with  myself  through  a  sousing  sea  to  the  door.  I 
caught  a  glimpse  of  a  white  face  glaring  at  me  from  the 
interior:  in  a  second  a  figure  shot  out,  fled  with  incredible 
speed  toward  the  bow,  and  leaped  into  the  sea  just  where 
our  boat  lay. 

"They'll  pick  him  up,"  I  exclaimed.  "Stop  a  second;" 
and  I  entered  the  house  and  stooped  over  the  figure  of  the 
man  on  the  deck. 

I  was  not  familiar  with  death,  and  yet  I  knew  it  was 
here.  I  cannot  describe  the  signs  in  his  face;  but  such  as 
they  were,  they  told  me  the  truth.  I  noticed  a  ring  upon 
his  finger,  and  that  his  clothes  were  good.  His  hair  was 
black,  and  his  features  well  shaped,  though  his  face  had 
a  half-convulsed  expression,  as  if  something  frightful  had 
appeared  to  him,  and  he  had  died  of  the  sight  of  it. 

"This  wreck  must  be  his  coffin,"  I  said.  "He  is  a 
corpse.  We  can  do  no  more." 

We  scrambled  for  the  last  time  along  the  life-line  and 
got  into  the  fore-chains ;  but  to  our  consternation,  saw  the 
boat  rowing  away  from  the  wreck.  However,  the  fit  of 
rage  and  terror  that  possessed  me  lasted  but  a  moment  or 
two;  for  I  now  saw  they  were  giving  chase  to  the  mad- 
man, who  was  swimming  steadily  away.  Two  of  the 
men  rowed,  and  the  third  hung  over  the  bows,  ready  to 
grasp  the  miserable  wretch.  The  Grosvenor  stood  steady, 
about  a  mile  off,  with  her  mainyards  backed;  and  just  as 
the  fellow  over  the  boat's  bows  caught  hold  of  the  swim- 
mer's hair,  the  ensign  was  run  up  on  board  the  ship  and 
dipped  three  times. 

"Bring  him  along  1"  I  shouted.  "They'll  be  off  without 
us  if  we  don't  bear  a  hand." 

They  nearly  capsized  the  boat  as  they  dragged  the  luna- 
tic, streaming  like  a  drowned  rat,  out  of  the  water ;  and 
one  of  the  sailors  tumbled  him  over  on  his  back,  and 
knelt  upon  him,  while  he  took  some  turns  with  the  boat's 


A  STORM  AND  A  RESCUE  247 

painter  round  his  body,  arms  and  legs.  The  boat  then 
came  alongside;  and  watching  our  opportunity,  we 
jumped  into  her  and  shoved  off. 

I  had  now  leisure  to  examine  the  persons  whom  we  had 
saved. 

They —  father  and  daughter,  as  I  judged  them  by  the 
girl's  exclamation  on  the  wreck — sat  in  the  stern-sheets, 
their  hands  locked.  The  old  man  seemed  nearly  insens- 
ible ;  leaning  backward  with  his  chin  on  his  breast  and  his 
eyes  partially  closed.  I  feared  he  was  dying;  but  could 
do  no  good  until  we  reached  the  Grosvenor,  as  we  had  no 
spirits  in  the  boat. 

The  girl  appeared  to  be  about  twenty  years  of  age ;  very 
fair,  her  hair  of  golden  straw  color,  which  hung  wet  and 
streaky  down  her  back  and  over  her  shoulders,  though  a 
portion  of  it  was  held  by  a  comb.  She  was  deadly  pale, 
and  her  lips  blue;  and  in  her  fine  eyes  was  such  a  look  of 
mingled  horror  and  rapture  as  she  cast  them  around  her, — 
first  glancing  at  me,  then  at  the  wreck,  then  at  the  Gros- 
venor,— that  the  memory  of  it  will  last  me  to  my  death. 
Her  dress,  of  some  dark  material,  was  soaked  with  salt 
water  up  to  her  hips,  and  she  shivered  and  moaned  inces- 
santly, though  the  sun  beat  so  warmly  upon  us  that  the 
thwarts  were  hot  to  the  hand. 

The  mad  sailor  lay  at  the  bottom  of  the  boat,  looking 
straight  into  the  sky.  He  was  a  horrid-looking  object, 
with  his  streaming  hair,  pasty  features,  and  red  beard,  his 
naked  shanks  and  feet  protruding  through  his  soaking, 
clinging  trousers,  which  figured  his  shin-bones  as  though 
they  clothed  a  skeleton.  Now  and  again  he  would  give 
himself  a  wild  twirl  and  yelp  out  fiercely;  but  he  was  well- 
nigh  spent  with  his  swim,  and  on  the  whole  was  quiet 
enough. 

I  said  to  the  girl,  "How  long  have  you  been  in  this 
dreadful  position?" 


248  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

"Since  yesterday  morning,"  she  answered,  in  a  choking 
voice  painful  to  hear,  and  gulping  after  each  word.  "We 
have  not  had  a  drop  of  water  to  drink  since  the  night  be- 
fore last.  He  is  mad  with  thirst,  for  he  drank  the  water 
on  the  deck;n  and  she  pointed  to  the  man  in  the  bottom 
of  the  boat. 

"My  God!"  I  cried  to  the  men,  "do  you  hear  her? 
They  have  not  drunk  water  for  two  days !  For  the  love 
of  God,  give  way!" 

They  bent  their  backs  to  the  oars,  and  the  boat  foamed 
over  the  long  swell.  The  wind  was  astern  and  helped  us. 
I  did  not  speak  again  to  the  poor  girl;  for  it  was  cruel  to 
make  her  talk,  when  the  words  lacerated  her  throat  as 
though  they  were  pieces  of  burning  iron. 

After  twenty  minutes,  which  seemed  as  many  hours,  we 
reached  the  vessel.  The  crew  pressing  round  the  gangway 
cheered  when  they  saw  we  had  brought  people  from  the 
wreck.  Duckling  and  the  skipper  watched  us  grimly  from 
the  poop. 

"Now  then,  my  lads,"  I  cried,  "up  with  this  lady  first. 
Some  of  you  on  deck  get  water  ready,  as  these  people  are 
dying  of  thirst." 

In  a  few  minutes,  both  the  girl  and  the  old  man  were 
handed  over  the  gangway.  I  cut  the  boat's  painter  adrift 
from  the  ringbolt  so  that  we  could  ship  the  madman  with- 
out loosening  his  bonds,  and  he  was  hoisted  up  like  a  bale 
of  goods.  Then  four  of  us  got  out  of  the  boat,  leaving 
one  to  drop  her  under  the  davits  and  hook  on  the  falls. 

At  this  moment  a  horrible  scene  took  place. 

The  old  man,  tottering  on  the  arms  of  two  seamen, 
was  being  led  into  the  cuddy,  followed  by  the  girl,  who 
walked  unaided.  The  madman,  in  the  grasp  of  the  big 
sailor  named  Johnson,  stood  near  the  gangway;  and  as  I 
scrambled  on  deck,  one  of  the  men  was  holding  a  pannikin 
full  of  water  to  his  face.  The  poor  wretch  was  shrinking 


A  STORM  AND  A  RESCUE  249 

away  from  it,  with  his  eyes  half  out  of  their  sockets;  but 
suddenly  tearing  his  arm  with  a  violent  effort  from  the  rope 
that  bound  him,  he  seized  the  pannikin  and  bit  clean 
through  the  tin;  after  which,  throwing  back  his  head,  he 
swallowed  the  whole  draught  dashed  the  pannikin  down, 
his  face  turned  black  and  he  fell  dead  on  the  deck. 

The  big  sailor  sprung  aside  with  an  oath,  forced  from 
him  by  his  terror;  and  from  every  looker-on  there  broke 
a  groan.  They  all  shrunk  away  and  stood  staring  with 
blanched  faces.  Such  a  piteous  sight  as  it  was,  lying 
doubled  up,  with  the  rope  pinioning  the  miserable  limbs, 
the  teeth  locked,  and  the  right  arm  uptossed ! 

"Aft  here  and  get  the  quarter-boat  hoisted  up !"  shouted 
Duckling,  advancing  on  the  poop ;  and  seeing  the  man  dead 
on  the  deck,  he  added,  "Get  a  tarpaulin  and  cover  him  up, 
and  let  him  lie  on  the  fore-hatch." 

"Shall  I  tell  the  steward  to  serve  out  grog  to  the  men 
who  went  with  me?"  I  asked  him. 

He  stared  at  me  contemptuously,  and  walked  away 
without  answering. 


THE  SAILOR'S  WIFE 
From  "An  Iceland  Fisherman,"  BY  PIERRE  LOTI 

THE  Icelanders  were  all  returning  now.  Two  ships 
came  in  the  second  day,  four  the  next,  and  twelve 
during  the  following  week.  And  all  through  the 
country  joy  returned  with  them;  and  there  was  happiness 
for  the  wives  and  mothers,  and  junkets  in  the  taverns 
where  the  beautiful  barmaids  of  Paimpol  served  out 
drink  to  the  fishers. 

The  Leopoldine  was  among  the  belated;  there  were 
yet  another  ten  expected.  They  would  not  be  long  now; 
and  allowing  a  week's  delay  so  as  not  to  be  disappointed, 
Gaud  waited  in  happy,  passionate  joy  for  Yann,  keeping 
their  home  bright  and  tidy  for  his  return.  When  every- 
thing was  in  good  order  there  was  nothing  left  for  her  to 
do;  and  besides,  in  her  impatience,  she  could  think  of 
nothing  else  but  her  husband. 

Three  more  ships  appeared;  then  another  five.  There 
were  only  two  lacking  now. 

"Come,  come,"  they  said  to  her  cheerily,  "this  year 
the  Leopoldine  and  the  Marie-Jeanne  will  be  the  last,  to 
pick  up  all  the  brooms  fallen  overboard  from  the  other 
craft." 

Gaud  laughed  also.  She  was  more  animated  and  beau- 
tiful than  ever,  in  her  great  joy  of  expectancy. 

But  the  days  succeeded  one  another  without  result. 

She  still  dressed  up  every  day,  and  with  a  joyful  look 
went  down  to  the  harbor  to  gossip  with  the  other  wives. 
She  said  that  this  delay  was  but  natural:  was  it  not  the 

250 


THE  SAILOR'S  WIFE  251 

same  event  every  year?  These  were  such  safe  boats,  and 
had  such  capital  sailors. 

But  when  at  home  alone,  at  night,  a  nervous  anxious 
shiver  of  apprehension  would  run  through  her  whole 
frame. 

Was  it  right  to  be  frightened  already?  Was  there 
even  a  single  reason  to  be  so?  but  she  began  to  tremble  at 
the  mere  idea  of  grounds  for  being  afraid. 

The  10th  of  September  came.  How  swiftly  the  days 
flew  by! 

One  morning — a  true  autumn  morning,  with  cold  mist 
falling  over  the  earth  in  the  rising  sun — she  sat  under  the 
porch  of  the  chapel  of  the  shipwrecked  mariners,  where 
the  widows  go  to  pray;  with  eyes  fixed  and  glassy,  and 
throbbing  temples  tightened  as  by  an  iron  band. 

These  sad  morning  mists  had  begun  two  days  before; 
and  on  this  particular  day  Gaud  had  awakened  with  a  still 
more  bitter  uneasiness,  caused  by  the  forecast  of  advancing 
winter.  Why  did  this  day,  this  hour,  this  very  moment, 
seem  to  her  more  painful  than  the  preceding?  Often 
ships  are  delayed  a  fortnight;  even  a  month,  for  that  mat- 
ter. 

But  surely  there  was  something  different  about  this 
particular  morning;  for  she  had  come  to-day  for  the  first 
time  to  sit  in  the  porch  of  this  chapel  and  read  the  names 
of  the  dead  sailors,  perished  in  their  prime. 

IN  MEMORY  OF 

GAOS  YVON 

Lost  at  Sea 

NEAR    THE    NORDEN-FJORD 

Like  a  great  shudder,  a  gust  of  wind  rose  from  the  sea, 
and  at  the  same  time  something  fell  like  rain  upon  the 


252  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

roof  above.  It  was  only  the  dead  leaves,  though ; — many 
were  blown  in  at  the  porch;  the  old  wind-tossed  trees  of 
the  graveyard  were  losing  their  foliage  in  this  rising  gale, 
and  winter  was  marching  nearer. 

Lost  at  Sea 

NEAR   THE   NORDEN-FJORD 
In  the  storm  of  the  4th  and  5th  of  August,  1880 

She  read  mechanically  under  the  arch  of  the  doorway; 
her  eyes  sought  to  pierce  the  distance  over  the  sea.  That 
morning  it  was  untraceable  under  the  gray  mist,  and  a 
dragging  drapery  of  clouds  overhung  the  horizon  like  a 
mourning  veil. 

Another  gust  of  wind,  and  other  leaves  danced  in 
whirls.  A  stronger  gust  still;  as  if  the  western  storm  which 
had  strewn  those  dead  over  the  sea  wished  to  deface  the 
very  inscriptions  which  kept  their  names  in  memory  with 
the  living. 

Gaud  looked  with  involuntary  persistency  at  an  empty 
space  upon  the  wall  which  seemed  to  yawn  expectant. 
By  a  terrible  impression,  she  was  pursued  by  the  thought 
of  a  fresh  slab  which  might  soon  perhaps  be  placed  there, 
— with  another  name  which  she  did  not  even  dare  think 
of  in  such  a  spot. 

She  felt  cold,  and  remained  seated  on  the  granite  bench, 
her  head  reclining  against  the  stone  wall. 

NEAR  THE  NORDEN-FJORD 

In  the  storm  of  the  4th  and  5th  of  August,  1880 
t  the  age  of  23  years 
Requiescat  in  pace! 

Then  Iceland  loomed  up  before  her,  with  its  little  ceme- 
tery lighted  up  from  below  the  sea-line  by  the  midnight 


THE  SAILOR'S  WIFE  253 

sun.  Suddenly,  in  the  same  empty  space  on  the  wall,  with 
horrifying  clearness  she  saw  the  fresh  slab  she  was  think- 
ing of;  a  clear  white  one,  with  a  skull  and  crossbones, 
and  in  a  flash  of  foresight  a  name, — the  worshiped  name 
of  "Yann  Gaos" !  Then  she  suddenly  and  fearfully  drew 
herself  up  straight  and  stiff,  with  a  hoarse  wild  cry  in  her 
throat  like  a  mad  creature. 

Outside,  the  gray  mist  of  the  dawn  fell  over  the  land, 
and  the  dead  leaves  were  again  blown  dancingly  into  the 
porch. 

Steps  on  the  footpath!  Somebody  was  coming?  She 
rose,  and  quickly  smoothed  down  her  cap  and  composed 
her  face.  Nearer  drew  the  steps.  She  assumed  the  air 
of  one  who  might  be  there  by  chance ;  for  above  all,  she 
did  not  wish  to  appear  yet  like  the  widow  of  a  shipwrecked 
mariner. 

It  happened  to  be  Fante  Floury,  the  wife  of  the  second 
mate  of  the  Leopoldine.  She  understood  immediately 
what  Gaud  was  doing  there:  it  was  useless  to  dissemble 
with  her.  At  first  each  woman  stood  speechless  before 
the  other.  They  were  angry  and  almost  hated  each  other 
for  having  met  holding  a  like  sentiment  of  apprehension. 

"All  the  men  of  Treguier  and  Saint-Brieuc  have  been 
back  for  a  week,"  said  Fante  at  last,  in  an  unfeeling,  muf- 
fled, half-irritated  voice. 

She  carried  a  blessed  taper  in  her  hand,  to  offer  up  a 
prayer.  Gaud  did  not  wish  yet  to  resort  to  that  extreme 
resource  of  despairing  wives.  Yet  silently  she  entered 
the  chapel  behind  Fante,  and  they  knelt  down  together 
side  by  side  like  two  sisters. 

To  the  Star  of  the  Sea  they  offered  ardent  imploring 
prayers,  with  their  whole  soul  in  them.  A  sound  of  sob- 
bing was  alone  heard,  as  their  rapid  tears  swiftly  fell  upon 
the  floor.  They  rose  together,  more  confident  and  softened. 


254  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

Fante  held  up  Gaud,  who  staggered;  and  taking  her  in 
her  arms,  kissed  her. 

Wiping  their  eyes  and  smoothing  their  disheveled  hair, 
they  brushed  off  the  salt  dust  from  the  flag-stones  which 
had  soiled  their  gowns,  and  went  away  in  opposite  direc- 
tions without  another  word. 

This  end  of  September  was  like  another  summer,  only 
a  little  less  lively.  The  weather  was  so  beautiful  that  had 
it  not  been  for  the  dead  leaves  which  fell  upon  the  roads, 
one  might  have  thought  that  June  had  come  back  again. 
Husbands  and  sweethearts  had  all  returned,  and  every- 
where was  the  joy  of  a  second  springtime  of  love. 

At  last,  one  day,  one  of  the  missing  ships  was  signaled. 
Which  one  was  it? 

The  groups  of  speechless  and  anxious  women  had 
rapidly  formed  on  the  cliff.  Gaud,  pale  and  trembling, 
was  there,  by  the  side  of  her  Yann's  father. 

"I'm  almost  sure,"  said  the  old  fisher,  "I'm  almost  sure 
it's  them.  A  red  rail  and  a  topsail  that  clews  up, — it's 
very  like  them,  anyhow.  What  do  you  make  it,  Gaud?" 

uNo,  it  isn't,"  he  went  on,  with  sudden  discouragement : 
"we've  made  a  mistake  again;  the  boom  isn't  the  same, 
and  ours  has  a  jigger-sail.  Well,  well,  it  isn't  our  boat  this 
time,  it's  only  the  Marie-Jeanne.  Never  mind,  my  lass, 
surely  they'll  not  be  long  now." 

But  day  followed  day,  and  night  succeeded  night,  with 
uninterrupted  serenity. 

Gaud  continued  to  dress  up  every  day;  like  a  poor 
crazed  woman,  always  in  fear  of  being  taken  for  the  widow 
of  a  shipwrecked  sailor,  feeling  exasperated  when  others 
looked  furtively  and  compassionately  at  her,  and  glancing 
aside  so  that  she  might  not  meet  those  glances  which  froze 
her  very  blood. 

She  had  fallen  into  the  habit  of  going  at  the  early  morn- 
ing right  to  the  end  of  the  headland,  on  the  high  cliffs  of 


THE  SAILOR'S  WIFE  255 

Pors-Even;  passing  behind  Yann's  old  home,  so  as  not  to 
be  seen  by  his  mother  or  little  sisters.  She  went  to  the 
extreme  point  of  the  Ploubazlanec  land,  which  is  outlined 
in  the  shape  of  a  reindeer's  horn  upon  the  gray  waters  of 
the  Channel,  and  sat  there  all  day  long  at  the  foot  of  the 
lonely  cross  which  rises  high  above  the  immense  waste  of 
the  ocean.  There  are  many  of  these  crosses  hereabout; 
they  are  set  up  on  the  most  advanced  cliffs  of  the  sea- 
bound  land,  as  if  to  implore  mercy,  and  to  calm  that  rest- 
less mysterious  power  which  draws  men  away,  never  to 
give  them  back,  and  in  preference  retains  the  bravest  and 
noblest. 

Around  this  cross  stretches  the  evergreen  waste,  strewn 
with  short  rushes.  At  this  great  height  the  sea  air  was 
very  pure ;  it  scarcely  retained  the  briny  odor  of  the  weeds, 
but  was  perfumed  with  all  the  exquisite  ripeness  of  Sep- 
tember flowers. 

Far  away,  all  the  bays  and  inlets  of  the  coast  were  firmly 
outlined,  rising  one  above  another;  the  land  of  Brittany 
terminated  in  jagged  edges,  which  spread  out  far  into  the 
tranquil  surface. 

Near  at  hand  the  reefs  were  numerous;  but  out  beyond, 
nothing  broke  its  polished  mirror,  from  which  arose  a 
soft  caressing  ripple,  light  and  intensified  from  the  depths 
of  its  many  bays.  Its  horizon  seemed  so  calm,  and  its 
depths  so  soft !  The  great  blue  sepulchre  of  many  Gaoses 
hid  its  inscrutable  mystery;  whilst  the  breezes,  faint  as 
human  breath,  wafted  to  and  fro  the  perfume  of  the 
stunted  gorse,  which  had  bloomed  again  in  the  latest 
autumn  sun. 

At  regular  hours  the  sea  retreated,  and  great  spaces 
were  left  uncovered  everywhere,  as  if  the  Channel  was 
slowly  drying  up;  then  with  the  same  lazy  slowness  the 
waters  rose  again,  and  continued  their  everlasting  com- 
ing without  any  heed  of  the  dead. 


256  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

At  the  foot  of  the  cross  Gaud  remained,  surrounded  by 
these  tranquil  mysteries,  gazing  ever  before  her  until  the 
night  fell  and  she  could  see  no  more. 

September  had  passed.  The  sorrowing  wife  took 
scarcely  any  nourishment,  and  could  no  longer  sleep. 

She  remained  at  home  now,  crouching  low  with  her 
hands  between  her  knees,  her  head  thrown  back  and  rest- 
ing against  the  wall  behind.  What  was  the  good  of  get- 
ting up  or  going  to  bed  now  ?  When  she  was  thoroughly 
exhausted  she  threw  herself,  dressed,  upon  her  bed.  Other- 
wise she  remained  in  the  same  position,  chilled  and  be- 
numbed; in  her  quiescent  state,  only  her  teeth  chattered 
with  the  cold ;  she  had  that  continual  impression  of  a  band 
of  iron  round  her  brows;  her  cheeks  looked  wasted;  her 
mouth  was  dry.  with  a  feverish  taste,  and  at  times  a  pain- 
ful hoarse  cry  rose  from  her  throat  and  was  repeated  in 
spasms,  whilst  her  head  beat  backwards  against  the  granite 
wall.  Or  else  she  called  Yann  by  his  name  in  a  low,  ten- 
der voice,  as  if  he  were  quite  close  to  her;  whispering 
words  of  love  to  her. 

Sometimes  she  occupied  her  brain  with  thoughts  of  quite 
insignificant  things;  for  instance,  she  amused  herself  by 
watching  the  shadow  of  the  china  Virgin  lengthen  slowly 
over  the  high  woodwork  of  the  bed,  as  the  sun  went  down. 
And  then  the  agonized  thoughts  returned  more  horribly; 
and  her  wailing  cry  broke  out  again  as  she  beat  her  head 
against  the  wall. 

All  the  hours  of  the  day  passed;  and  all  the  hours  of 
evening,  and  of  night ;  and  then  the  hours  of  the  morning. 
When  she  reckoned  the  time  he  ought  to  have  been  back, 
she  was  seized  with  a  still  greater  terror;  she  wished  to 
forget  all  dates  and  the  very  names  of  the  days. 

Generally,  there  is  some  information  concerning  the 
wrecks  off  Iceland;  those  who  return  have  seen  the  tragedy 
from  afar,  or  else  have  found  some  wreckage  or  bodies, 


THE  SAILOR'S  WIFE  257 

or  have  an  indication  to  guess  the  rest.  But  of  the  Leo- 
poldine  nothing  had  been  seen,  and  nothing  was  known. 
The  Marie-Jeanne  men — the  last  to  have  seen  it  on  the  2d 
of  August — said  that  she  was  to  have  gone  on  fishing  far- 
ther towards  the  north ;  and  beyond  that  the  secret  was  un- 
fathomable. 

Waiting,  always  waiting,  and  knowing  nothing !  When 
would  the  time  come  when  she  need  wait  no  longer?  She 
did  not  even  know  that;  and  now  she  almost  wished  that 
it  might  be  soon.  Oh !  if  he  were  dead,  let  them  at  least 
have  pity  enough  to  tell  her  so ! 

Oh  to  see  her  darling,  as  he  was  at  this  very  moment, — 
that  is,  what  was  left  of  him !  If  only  the  much-implored 
Virgin,  or  some  other  power,  would  do  her  the  blessing  to 
show  her  by  second-sight  her  beloved!  either  living  and 
working  hard  to  return  a  rich  man,  or  else  as  a  corpse  sur- 
rendered by  the  sea,  so  that  she  might  at  least  know  a 
certainty. 

Sometimes  she  was  seized  with  the  thought  of  a  ship  ap- 
pearing suddenly  upon  the  horizon:  the  Leopoldine  has- 
tening home.  Then  she  would  suddenly  make  an  instinctive 
movement  to  rise,  and  rush  to  look  out  at  the  ocean,  to  see 
whether  it  were  true. 

But  she  would  fall  back.  Alas!  where  was  this  Leo- 
poldine now?  Where  could  she  be?  Out  afar,  at  that 
awful  distance  of  Iceland, — forsaken,  crushed,  and  lost. 

All  ended  by  a  never-fading  vision  appearing  to  her, — 
an  empty,  sea-tossed  wreck,  slowly  and  gently  rocked  by 
the  silent  gray  and  rose-streaked  sea;  almost  with  soft 
mockery,  in  the  midst  of  the  vast  calm  of  deadened  waters. 

Two  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

It  was  at  n'^ght  especially  that  she  kept  attentive  to  ap- 
proaching footsteps;  at  the  slightest  rumor  or  unaccus- 
tomed noise  her  temples  vibrated :  by  dint  of  being  strained 
to  outward  things,  they  had  become  fearfully  sensitive. 


258  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

Two  o'clock  in  the  morning.  On  this  night  as  on  others, 
with  her  hands  clasped  and  her  eyes  wide  open  in  the  dark, 
she  listened  to  the  wind  sweeping  in  never-ending  tumult 
over  the  heath. 

Suddenly  a  man's  footsteps  hurried  along  the  path !  At 
this  hour  who  would  pass  now?  She  drew  herself  up, 
stirred  to  the  very  soul,  her  heart  ceasing  to  beat. 

Some  one  stopped  before  the  door,  and  came  up  the 
small  stone  steps. 

He ! — O  God ! — he !  Some  one  had  knocked, — it 
could  be  no  other  than  he!  She  was  up  now,  barefooted; 
she,  so  feeble  for  the  last  few  days,  had  sprung  up  aa 
nimbly  as  a  kitten,  with  her  arms  outstretched  to  wind 
round  her  darling.  Of  course  the  Leopoldine  had  arrived 
at  night,  and  anchored  in  Pors-Even  Bay,  and  he  had 
rushed  home;  she  arranged  all  this  in  her  mind  with  the 
swiftness  of  lightning.  She  tore  the  flesh  off  her  fingers 
in  her  excitement  to  draw  the  bolt,  which  had  stuck. 

"Eh?" 

She  slowly  moved  backward,  as  if  crushed,  her  head 
falling  on  her  bosom.  Her  beautiful  insane  dream 
was  over.  She  could  just  grasp  that  it  was  not  her  hus- 
band, her  Yann,  and  that  nothing  of  him,  substantial  or 
spiritual,  had  passed  through  the  air;  she  felt  plunged 
again  into  her  deep  abyss,  to  the  lowest  depths  of  her 
terrible  despair. 

Poor  Fantec — for  it  was  he — stammered  many  excuses : 
his  wife  was  very  ill,  and  their  child  was  choking  in  its 
cot,  suddenly  attacked  with  a  malignant  sore  throat;  so  he 
had  run  over  to  beg  for  assistance  on  the  road  to  fetch 
the  doctor  from  Paimpol. 

What  did  all  this  matter  to  her?  She  had  gone  mad  in 
her  own  distress,  and  could  give  no  thoughts  to  the 
troubles  of  others.  Huddled  on  a  bench,  she  remained 
before  him  with  fixed  glazed  eyes,  like  a  dead  woman's; 


THE  SAILOR'S  WIFE  259 

without  listening  to  him,  or  even  answering  at  random 
or  looking  at  him.  What  to  her  was  the  speech  the  man 
was  making? 

He  understood  it  all,  and  guessed  why  the  door  had 
been  opened  so  quickly  to  him;  and  feeling  pity  for  the 
pain  he  had  unwittingly  caused,  he  stammered  out  an  ex- 
cuse. 

ujust  so:  he  never  ought  to  have  disturbed  her — her 
in  particular." 

"I!"  ejaculated  Gaud  quickly,  uwhy  should  I  not  be 
disturbed  particularly,  Fantec?" 

Life  had  suddenly  come  back  to  her;  for  she  did  not 
wish  to  appear  in  despair  before  others.  Besides,  she  pitied 
him  now;  she  dressed  to  accompany  him,  and  found  the 
strength  to  go  and  see  to  his  little  child. 

At  four  o'clock  in  the  morning,  when  she  returned  to 
throw  herself  on  the  bed,  sleep  subdued  her,  for  she  was 
tired  out.  But  that  moment  of  excessive  joy  had  left  an 
impression  on  her  mind,  which  in  spite  of  all  was  perma- 
nent; she  awoke  soon  with  a  shudder,  rising  a  little  and 
partially  recollecting — she  knew  not  what.  News  had 
come  to  her  about  her  Yann.  In  the  midst  of  her  confu- 
sion of  ideas,  she  sought  rapidly  in  her  mind  what  it  could 
be ;  but  there  was  nothing  save  Fantec's  interruption. 

For  the  second  time  she  fell  back  into  her  terrible 
abyss,  nothing  changed  in  her  morbid,  hopeless  waiting. 

Yet  in  that  short,  hopeful  moment,  she  had  felt  him  so 
near  to  her  that  it  was  as  if  his  spirit  had  floated  over 
the  sea  unto  her, — what  is  called  a  foretoken  (pressigne) 
in  Breton  land;  and  she  listened  still  more  attentively  to 
the  steps  outside,  trusting  that  some  one  might  come  to 
her  to  speak  of  him. 

Just  as  the  day  broke,  Yann's  father  entered.  He  took 
off  his  cap,  and  pushed  back  his  splendid  white  locks, 


260  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

which  were  in  curls  like  Yann's,  sat  down  by  Gaud's  bed- 
side. 

His  heart  ached  heavily  too;  for  Yann,  his  tall,  hand- 
some Yann,  was  his  first-born,  his  favorite  and  his  pride : 
but  he  did  not  despair  yet.  He  comforted  Gaud  in  his 
own  blunt,  affectionate  way.  To  begin  with,  those  who 
had  last  returned  from  Iceland  spoke  of  the  increasing 
dense  fogs,  which  might  well  have  delayed  the  vessel ;  and 
then  too  an  idea  struck  him, — they  might  possibly  have 
stopped  at  the  distant  Faroe  Islands  on  their  homeward 
course,  whence  letters  were  so  long  in  traveling.  This  had 
happened  to  him  once  forty  years  ago,  and  his  own  poor 
dead  and  gone  mother  had  had  a  mass  said  for  his  soul. 
The  Leopoldine  was  such  a  good  boat, — next  to  new, — 
and  her  crew  were  such  able-bodied  seamen. 

Granny  Moan  stood  by  them  shaking  her  head :  the  dis- 
tress of  her  granddaughter  had  almost  given  her  back 
her  own  strength  and  reason.  She  tidied  up  the  place, 
glancing  from  time  to  time  at  the  faded  portrait  of  Syl- 
vestre,  which  hung  upon  the  granite  wall  with  its  anchor 
emblems  and  mourning-wreath  of  black  bead-work.  Ever 
since  the  sea  had  robbed  her  of  her  own  last  offspring,  she 
believed  no  longer  in  safe  returns;  she  only  prayed 
through  fear,  bearing  Heaven  a  grudge  in  the  bottom  of 
her  heart. 

But  Gaud  listened  eagerly  to  these  consoling  reason- 
ings; her  large  sunken  eyes  looked  with  deep  tenderness 
out  upon  this  old  sire,  who  so  much  resembled  her  be- 
loved one;  merely  to  have  him  near  her  was  like  a  host- 
age against  death  having  taken  the  younger  Gaos;  and 
she  felt  reassured,  nearer  to  her  Yann.  Her  tears  fell 
softly  and  silently,  and  she  repeated  again  her  passionate 
prayers  to  the  Star  of  the  Sea. 

A  delay  out  at  those  islands  to  repair  damages  was  a 
very  likely  event.  She  rose  and  brushed  her  hair,  and 


THE  SAILOR'S  WIFE  261 

then  dressed  as  if  she  might  fairly  expect  him.  All  then 
was  not  lost,  if  a  seaman,  his  own  father,  did  not  yet 
despair.  And  for  a  few  days  she  resumed  looking  out 
for  him  again. 

Autumn  at  last  arrived, — a  late  autumn  too, — its 
gloomy  evenings  making  all  things  appear  dark  in  the  old 
cottage;  and  all  the  land  looked  sombre  too. 

The  very  daylight  seemed  a  sort  of  twilight;  immeas- 
urable clouds,  passing  slowly  overhead,  darkened  the 
whole  country  at  broad  noon.  The  wind  blew  constantly 
with  the  sound  of  a  great  cathedral  organ  at  a  distance, 
but  playing  profane,  despairing  dirges;  at  other  times 
the  noise  came  close  to  the  door,  like  the  howling  of  wild 
beasts. 

She  had  grown  pale, — aye,  blanched, — and  bent  more 
than  ever;  as  if  old  age  had  already  touched  her  with  its 
featherless  wing.  Often  did  she  finger  the  wedding 
clothes  of  her  Yann,  folding  them  and  unfolding  them 
again  and  again  like  some  maniac, — especially  one  of  his 
blue  woolen  jerseys  which  still  had  preserved  his  shape: 
when  she  threw  it  gently  on  the  table,  it  fell  with  the 
shoulders  and  chest  well  defined;  so  she  placed  it  by  itself 
in  a  shelf  of  their  wardrobe,  and  left  it  there,  so  that  it 
might  forever  rest  unaltered. 

Every  night  the  cold  mists  sank  upon  the  land,  as  she 
gazed  over  the  depressing  heath  through  her  little  win- 
dow, and  watched  the  thin  puffs  of  white  smoke  arise 
from  the  chimneys  of  other  cottages  scattered  here  and 
there  on  all  sides.  There  the  husbands  had  returned,  like 
wandering  birds  driven  home  by  the  frost.  Before  their 
blazing  hearths  the  evenings  passed,  cozy  and  warm; 
for  the  springtime  of  love  had  begun  again  in  this  land  of 
North  Sea  fishermen. 

Still  clinging  to  the  thought  of  those  islands  where  he 


262  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

might  perhaps  have  lingered,  she  was  buoyed  up  by  a 
kind  hope,  and  expected  him  home  any  day. 

*          *         * 

But  he  never  returned.  One  August  night,  out  off  gloomy 
Iceland,  mingled  with  the  furious  clamor  of  the  sea,  his 
wedding  with  the  sea  was  performed.  It  had  been  his 
nurse;  it  had  rocked  him  in  his  babyhood  and  had  after- 
wards made  him  big  and  strong;  then,  in  his  superb  man- 
hood, it  had  taken  him  back  again  for  itself  alone.  Pro- 
foundest  mystery  had  surrounded  this  unhallowed  union. 
While  it  went  on,  dark  curtains  hung  pall-like  over  it  as 
if  to  conceal  the  ceremony,  and  the  ghoul  howled  in  an 
awful,  deafening  voice  to  stifle  his  cries.  He,  thinking 
of  Gaud,  his  sole,  darling  wife,  had  battled  with  giant 
strength  against  this  deathly  rival,  until  he  at  last  sur- 
rendered, with  a  deep  death-cry  like  the  roar  of  a  dying 
bull,  through  a  mouth  already  filled  with  water;  and  his 
arms  were  stretched  apart  and  stiffened  forever. 

All  those  he  had  invited  in  days  of  old  were  present  at 
his  wedding.  All  except  Sylvestre,  who  had  gone  to  sleep 
in  the  enchanted  gardens  far,  far  away,  at  the  other  side 
of  the  earth. 


THE  SALVING  OF  THE  YAN-SHAN 
From  uln  Blue  Waters,"  BY  H.  DE  VERB  STACPOOLE 

I 

THE  Heart  of  Ireland  was  spreading  her  wings  to 
the  north-west  trades,  making  a  good  seven  knots, 
with  the  coast  of  California  a  vague  line  on  the 
horizon  to  port  and  all  the  blue  Pacific  before  her. 

Captain  Blood  was  aft  with  his  mate,  Billy  Harman, 
leaning  on  the  rail  and  watching  the  foam  boosting  away 
from  the  stern  and  flowing  off  in  creamy  lines  on  the 
swirl  of  the  wake.  Ginnell,  owner  and  captain  of  the 
Heart  of  Ireland,  shanghaied  and  reduced  to  deck  hand, 
was  forward  on  the  look-out,  and  one  of  the  coolie  crew 
was  at  the  wheel. 

"  I'm  not  given  to  meeting  trouble  half-way,"  said 
Blood,  shifting  his  position  and  leaning  with  his  left  arm 
on  the  rail,  "but  it  'pears -to  me  Pat  Ginnell  is  taking 
his  set  down  a  mighty  sight  too  easy.  He's  got  something 
up  his  sleeve." 

"  SoVe  we,"  replied  Harman.  "What  can  he  do? 
He  laid  out  to  shanghai  you,  and  by  gum,  he  did  it.  I 
don't  say  I  didn't  let  him  down  crool,  playin'  into  his 
hands  and  pretendin'  to  help  and  gettin'  Captain  Mike  as 
a  witness,  but  the  fac'  remains  he  got  you  aboard  this 
hooker  by  foul  play,  shanghaied  you  were,  and  then  you 
turns  the  tables  on  him,  knocks  the  stuffin'  out  of  him 
and  turns  him  into  a  deck  hand.  How's  he  to  com- 
plain? I'd  start  back  to  'Frisco  now  and  dare  him  to 
come  ashore  with  his  complaints.  We've  got  his  ship, 
well,  that's  his  fault.  He's  no  legs  to  stand  on,  that's 
truth. 

263 


264  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

u  Leavin'  aside  this  little  bisness,  he's  known  as  a 
crook  from  Benicia  right  to  San  Jose.  The  bay  stinks 
with  him  and  his  doin's;  settin'  Chinese  sturgeon  lines, 
Captain  Mike  said  he  was,  and  all  but  nailed,  smugglin' 
and  playin'  up  to  the  Greeks,  and  worse.  The  Bay- 
side's  hungry  to  catch  him  an'  stuff  him  in  the  peniten- 
tiary, and  he  hasn't  no  friends.  I'm  no  saint,  I  owns  it, 
but  I'm  a  plaster  John  the  Baptis'  to  Ginnell,  and  I've 
got  friends,  so  have  you.  Well,  what  are  you  bothering 
about?" 

"  Oh,  I'm  not  bothering  about  the  law,"  said  Blood, 
"  only  about  him.  I'm  going  to  keep  my  eye  open  and 
not  be  put  asleep  by  his  quiet  ways  —  and  I'd  advise  you 
to  do  the  same." 

"  Trust  me,"  said  Harman,  "  and  more  especial  when 
we  come  to  longsides  with  the  Yan-Shan." 

Now  the  Yan-Shan  had  started  in  life  somewhere  early 
in  the  nineties  as  a  twelve  hundred  ton  cargo  boat  in  the 
Bullmer  line;  she  had  been  christened  the  Robert  Bull- 
mer, and  her  first  act  when  the  dog-shores  had  been 
knocked  away  was  a  bull  charge  down  the  launching  slip, 
resulting  in  the  bursting  of  a  hawser,  the  washing  over 
of  a  boat  and  the  drowning  of  two  innocent  spectators; 
her  next  was  an  attempt  to  butt  the  Eddystone  over  in  a 
fog,  and,  being  unbreakable,  she  might  have  succeeded 
only  that  she  was  going  dead  slow*  She  drifted  out  of 
the  Bullmer  line  on  the  wash  of  a  law-suit  owing  to  the 
ramming  by  her  of  a  Cape  boat  in  Las  Palmas  harbour; 
engaged  herself  in  the  fruit  trade  in  the  service  of  the 
Corona  Capuella  Syndicate,  and  got  on  to  the  Swimmer 
rocks  with  a  cargo  of  Jamaica  oranges,  a  broken  screw 
shaft  and  a  blown-off  cylinder  cover.  The  ruined  cargo, 
salvage  and  tow  smashed  the  Syndicate,  and  the  Robert 
Bullmer  found  new  occupations  till  the  See-Yup-See  Com- 
pany of  Canton  picked  her  up,  and,  rechristening,  used  her 


THE  SALVING  OF  THE  YAN-SHAN     265 

for  conveying  coffins  and  coolies  to  the  American  sea- 
board. They  had  sent  her  to  Valdivia  on  some  business, 
and  on  the  return  from  the  southern  port  to  'Frisco  she 
had,  true  to  her  instincts  and  helped  by  a  gale,  run  on  San 
Juan,  a  scrap  of  an  island  north  of  the  Channel  Islands 
of  the  California  coast.  Every  soul  had  been  lost  with 
the  exception  of  two  Chinese  coolies,  who,  drifting  on  a 
raft,  had  been  picked  up  and  brought  to  San  Francisco. 

She  had  a  general  cargo  and  twenty  thousand  dollars 
in  gold  coin  on  board,  but  the  coolies  had  declared  her  to 
be  a  total  wreck,  said,  in  fact,  when  they  had  last  sighted 
her  she  was  going  to  pieces. 

That  was  the  yarn  Harman  heard  through  Clancy, 
with  the  intimation  that  the  wreck  was  not  worth  two 
dollars,  let  alone  the  expenses  of  a  salvage  ship. 

The  story  had  eaten  into  Harman's  mind;  he  knew 
San  Juan  better  than  any  man  in  'Frisco,  and  he  con- 
sidered that  a  ship  once  ashore  there  would  stick;  then 
Ginnell  turned  up,  and  the  luminous  idea  of  inducing 
Ginnell  to  shanghai  Blood  so  that  Blood  might  with 
his,  Harman's,  assistance  shanghai  Ginnell  and  use  the 
Heart  of  Ireland  for  the  picking  of  the  Yan-Shan's 
pocket,  entered  his  mind. 

"  It's  just  when  we  come  alongside  the  Yan-Shan  we 
may  find  our  worst  bother,"  said  Blood. 

'Which  way?"  asked  Harman. 

"  Well,  they're  pretty  sure  to  send  some  sort  of  a 
wrecking  expedition  to  try  and  salve  some  of  the  cargo, 
let  alone  those  dollars." 

"  See  here,"  said  Harman,  "  I  had  the  news  from 
Clancy  that  morning,  and  it  had  only  just  come  to  'Frisco, 
it  wasn't  an  hour  old;  we  put  the  cap  on  Ginnell  and 
were  out  of  the  Golden  Gate  before  sundown  same  day. 
A  wrecking  ship  would  take  all  of  two  days  to  get  her 
legs  under  her,  supposing  anyone  bought  the  wreck,  so  we 


266  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

have  two  days'  start ;  we've  been  makin'  seven  knots  and 
maybe  a  bit  over,  they  won't  make  more.  So  we  have 
two  days  to  our  good  when  we  get  there." 

"  They  may  start  a  quick  ship  out  on  the  job,"  said 
Blood. 

"  Well,  now,  there's  where  my  knowledge  comes  in," 
said  Harman.  "  There's  only  two  salvage  ships  at  pres- 
ent in  'Frisco,  and  rotten  tubs  they  are.  One's  the  Mary- 
land, she's  most  a  divin'  and  dredgin'  ship,  ain't  no  good 
for  this  sort  of  work,  sea-bottom  scrapin'  is  all  she's  good 
for,  and  little  she  makes  at  it.  The  other's  the  Port  of 
Amsterdam,  owned  by  Gunderman.  She's  the  ship  they'd 
use;  she's  got  steam  winches  and  derricks  'nough  to 
discharge  the  Ark,  and  stowage  room  to  hold  the  cargo 
down  to  the  last  flea,  but  she's  no  good  for  more  than 
eight  knots;  she  steams  like  as  if  she'd  a  drogue  behind 
her,  because  why?  —  she's  got  beam  engines  —  she's 
that  old,  she's  got  beam  engines  in  her.  I'm  not  denyin' 
there's  somethin'  to  be  said  for  them,  but,  there  you  are, 
there's  no  speed  in  them." 

"  Well,  beam  engines  or  no  beam  engines,  we'll  have  a 
pretty  rough  time  if  she  comes  down  and  catches  us 
within  a  cable's  length  of  the  Yan-Shan,"  said  Blood. 
"  However,  there's  no  use  in  fetching  trouble;  let's  go 
and  have  a  look  at  the  lazaret,  I  want  to  see  how  we 
stand  for  grub." 

Chop-stick  Charlie  was  the  name  Blood  had  chris- 
tened the  coolie  who  acted  as  steward  and  cabin  hand. 
He  called  him  now,  and  out  of  the  opium-tinctured  gloom 
of  the  fo'c'sle  Charlie  appeared,  received  his  orders  and 
led  them  to  the  lazaret. 

None  of  the  crew  had  shown  the  slightest  emotion  on 
seeing  Blood  take  over  command  of  the  schooner  and 
Ginnell  swabbing  decks.  The  fight,  that  had  made  Blood 
master  of  the  Heart  of  Ireland  and  Ginnell's  revolver, 


THE  SALVING  OF  THE  YAN-SHAN     267 

had  occurred  in  the  cabin  and  out  of  sight  of  the  coolies, 
but  even  had  it  been  conducted  in  full  view  of  them,  it 
is  doubtful  whether  they  would  have  shown  any  feeling 
or  lifted  a  hand  in  the  matter. 

As  long  as  their  little  privileges  were  regarded,  as  long 
as  opium  bubbled  in  the  evening  pipe,  and  pork,  rice  and 
potatoes  were  served  out,  one  white  skipper  was  the 
same  as  another  to  them. 

The  overhaul  of  the  stores  took  half  an  hour  and  was 
fairly  satisfactory,  and,  when  they  came  on  deck,  Blood, 
telling  Charlie  to  take  Ginnell's  place  as  lookout,  called 
the  latter  down  into  the  cabin. 

"  We  want  to  have  a  word  with  you,"  said  Blood,  whilst 
Harman  took  his  seat  on  a  bunk  edge  opposite  him. 

"  It's  time  you  knew  our  minds  and  what  we  intend  do- 
ing with  the  schooner  and  yourself." 

"  Faith,"  said  Ginnell,  "  I  think  it  is." 

"  I'm  glad  you  agree.  Well,  when  you  shanghaied  me 
on  board  this  old  shark-boat  of  yours,  there's  little  doubt 
as  to  what  you  intended  doing  with  me.  Harman  will 
tell  you,  for  we've  talked  on  the  matter." 

"  He'd  a'  worked  you  crool  hard,  fed  you  crool  bad, 
and  landed  you  after  a  six  months'  cruise  doped  or  drunk, 
with  two  cents  in  your  pocket  and  an  affidavit  up  his  sleeve 
that  you'd  tried  to  fire  his  ship,"  said  Harman.  "  I  know 
the  swab." 

Ginnell  said  nothing  for  a  moment  in  answer  to  this 
soft  impeachment,  he  was  cutting  himself  a  chew  of  to- 
bacco ;  then  at  last  he  spoke : 

"  I  don't  want  no  certifikit  of  character  from  either  the 
pair  of  you,"  said  he.  l  You've  boned  me  ship  and 
you've  blacked  me  eye  and  you've  near  stove  me  ribs  in 
sittin'  on  me  chest  and  houldin'  me  revolver  in  me  face; 
what  I  wants  to  know  is  your  game.  Where's  your 
profits  to  come  from  on  this  job?" 


268  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

"  I'll  tell  you,"  replied  Blood.  "There's  a  hooker 
called  the  Yan-Shan  piled  on  the  rocks  down  the  coast 
and  we're  going  to  leave  our  cards  on  her  —  savvy?  " 

"  Oh,  Lord!  "said  Ginnell. 

"  What's  the  matter  now?  "  asked  Harman. 

u  What's  the  matter,  d'you  say?"  cried  Ginnell. 
"  Why,  it's  the  Yan-Shan  I  was  after  meself." 

Blood  stared  at  the  owner  of  the  Heart  of  Ireland  for 
a  moment,  then  he  broke  into  a  roar  of  laughter. 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say  you  bought  the  wreck?  "  he 
asked. 

"  Not  me,"  replied  Ginnell.  "  Sure,  where  d'you  think 
I'd  be  findin'  the  money  to  buy  wrecks  with?  I  had  news 
that  mornin'  she  was  lyin'  there  derelick,  and  I  was  just 
slippin'  down  the  coast  to  have  a  look  at  her  when  you 
two  spoiled  me  lay  by  takin'  me  ship." 

It  was  now  that  Harman  began  to  laugh. 

"  Well,  if  that  don't  beat  all,"  said  he.  "  And  maybe, 
since  you  were  so  keen  on  havin'  a  look  at  her,  you've 
brought  wreckin'  tools  with  you  in  case  they  might  come 
in  handy?  " 

"  That's  as  may  be,"  replied  Ginnell.  "  What  you 
have  got  to  worry  about  isn't  wreckin'  tools,  but  how  to 
get  rid  of  the  boodle  if  it's  there.  Twenty  thousand 
dollars,  that's  the  figure." 

"  So  you  know  of  the  dollars?  "  said  Blood. 

"Sure,  what  do  you  take  me  for?"  asked  Ginnell. 
"  D'you  think  I'd  have  bothered  about  the  job  only  for 
the  dollars?  What's  the  use  of  general  cargo  to  the  like 
of  me?  Now  what  I'm  thinkin'  is  this,  you  want  a  fence 
to  help  you  to  get  rid  of  the  stuff.  Supposin'  you  find  it, 
how  are  you  to  cart  this  stuff  ashore  and  bank  it?  You'll 
be  had,  sure,  but  not  if  I'm  at  your  back.  Now,  gents, 
I'm  willin'  to  wipe  out  all  differences  and  help  in  the 
salvin'  on  shares,  and  I'll  make  it  easy  for  you.  You'll 


THE  SALVING  OF  THE  YAN-SHAN     269 

each  take  seven  thousand  and  I'll  take  the  balance,  and  I 
won't  charge  nuthin'  for  the  loan  you've  took  of  the 
Heart  of  Ireland.  It's  a  losin'  game  for  me,  but  it's  bet- 
ter than  bein'  done  out  entirely." 

Blood  looked  at  Harman  and  Harman  looked  at 
Blood.  Then  telling  Ginnell  that  they  would  consider  the 
matter,  they  went  on  deck  to  talk  it  over. 

There  was  truth  in  what  Ginnell  said.  They  would 
want  help  in  getting  the  coin  ashore  in  safety,  and  unless 
they  marooned  or  murdered  Ginnell,  he,  if  left  out, 
would  always  be  a  witness  to  make  trouble.  Besides, 
though  engaged  on  a  somewhat  shady  business,  neither 
Blood  nor  Harman  were  scoundrels.  Ginnell  up  to  this 
had  been  paid  out  in  his  own  coin,  the  slate  was  clean, 
and  it  pleased  neither  of  them  to  take  profit  from  this 
blackguard  beyond  what  they  considered  their  due. 

It  was  just  this  touch  of  finer  feeling  that  excluded 
them  from  the  category  of  rogues  and  made  their  persons 
worth  considering  and  their  doings  worth  recounting. 

"  We'll  give  him  what  he  asks,"  said  Blood,  when  the 
consultation  was  over,  "  and  mind  you,  I  don't  like  giving 
it  him  one  little  bit,  not  on  account  of  the  money  but 
because  it  seems  to  make  us  partners  with  that  swab.  I 
tell  you  this,  Billy  Harman,  I'd  give  half  as  much  again 
if  an  honest  man  was  dealing  with  us  in  this  matter  in- 
stead of  Pat  Ginnell." 

"  And  what  honest  man  would  deal  with  us?  "  asked 
the  ingenuous  Harman.  "  Lord !  one  might  think  the 
job  we  was  on  was  tryin'  to  sell  a  laundry.  It's  safe 
enough,  for  who  can  say  we  didn't  hit  the  wreck  cruisin' 
round  promiscuous,  but  it  won't  hold  no  frills  in  the  way 
of  Honesty  and  such.  Down  with  you,  and  close  the 
bargain  with  that  chap  and  tip  him  the  wink  that,  though 
we're  mugs  enough  to  give  him  six  thousand  dollars  for 
the  loan  of  his  old  shark-boat,  we're  men  enough  to  put  a 


270  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

pistol  bullet  in  his  gizzard  if  he  tries  any  games  with  us. 
Down  you  go." 
Blood  went. 

II 

NEXT  morning,  an  hour  after  sunrise,  through  the  blaze 
of  light  striking  the  Pacific  across  the  far-off  Californian 
coast,  San  Juan  showed  like  a  flake  of  spar  on  the  horizon 
to  southward. 

The  sea  all  there  is  of  an  impossible  blueness,  the 
Pacific  blue  deepened  by  the  Kuro  Shiwo  current,  that 
mysterious  river  of  the  sea  which  floods  up  the  coast  of 
Japan,  crosses  the  Pacific  towards  Alaska,  and  sweeps 
down  the  West  American  seaboard  to  fan  out  and  lose 
itself  away  down  somewhere  off  Chile. 

Harman  judged  the  island  to  be  twenty  miles  away, 
and  as  they  were  making  six  and  a  half  knots,  he  reckoned 
to  hit  it  in  three  hours  if  the  wind  held. 

They  went  down  and  had  breakfast,  and  after  the  meal 
Ginnell,  going  to  the  locker  where  he  had  stowed  the 
wrecking  tools,  fetched  them  out  and  laid  them  on  deck. 
There  were  two  crow-bars  and  a  jemmy,  not  to  mention  a 
flogging  hammer,  a  rip  saw,  some  monstrous  big  chisels 
and  a  shipwright's  mallet.  They  looked  like  a  collection 
of  burglar's  implements  from  the  land  of  Brobdingnag. 

"  There  you  are,"  said  Ginnell.  "  You  never  know 
what  you  may  want  on  a  job  like  this,  with  bulkheads, 
maybe,  to  be  cut  through  and  chests  broke  open;  get  a 
spare  sail,  Misther  Harman,  and  rowl  the  lot  up  in  it  so's 
they'll  be  aisier  for  thransport." 

He  was  excited,  and  the  Irish  in  him  came  out  when 
he  was  like  that;  also,  as  the  most  knowledgeable  man 
in  the  business,  he  was  taking  the  lead.  You  never  could 
have  fancied  from  his  cheerful  manner  and  his  appear- 
ance of  boss  that  Blood  was  the  real  master  of  the  situa- 


THE  SALVING  OF  THE  YAN-SHAN     271 

tion,  or  that  Blood,  only  a  few  days  ago,  had  nearly 
pounded  the  life  out  of  him,  captured  his  revolver,  and 
taken  possession  of  the  Heart  of  Ireland. 

The  schooner  carried  a  whale-boat,  and  this  was  now 
got  in  readiness  for  lowering,  with  provisions  and  water 
for  the  landing-party,  and  when  that  was  done  the  island, 
now  only  four  miles  distant,  showed  up  fine,  a  sheer 
splinter  of  volcanic  rock  standing  up  from  the  sea  and 
creamed  about  with  foam. 

Not  a  sign  of  a  wreck  was  to  be  seen,  though  Ginnell's 
glasses  were  powerful  enough  to  show  up  every  detail 
from  the  rock  fissures  to  the  roosting  gulls. 

Gloom  fell  upon  the  party,  with  the  exception  of 
Harman. 

"  It'll  be  on  the  other  side  if  it's  there  at  all,"  said  he. 
"  She'd  have  been  coming  up  from  the  s'uthard,  and  if 
the  gale  was  behind  her  it  would  have  taken  her  right  on 
to  the  rocks;  she  couldn't  be  on  this  side,  anyhow,  be- 
cause why?  —  there's  nuthin'  to  hold  her.  It's  a  mile 
deep  water  off  them  cliffs,  but  on  the  other  side  it  shoals 
gradual  from  tide  marks  to  ten  fathoms  water,  which 
holds  for  a  quarter  of  a  mile  —  keep  her  as  she  is,  you 
could  scrape  them  cliffs  with  a  battleship  without  danger 
of  groundin'." 

After  a  minute  or  two,  he  took  the  wheel  himself  and 
steered  her  whilst  the  fellows  stood  by  the  halyards  ready 
to  let  go  at  a  moment's  notice. 

.  It  was  an  impressive  place,  this  north  side  of  the  island 
of  San  Juan;  the  heavy  swell  came  up  smacking  right 
on  to  the  sheer  cliff  wall,  jetting  green  water  and  foam 
yards  high  to  the  snore  and  boom  of  caves  and  cut  outs  in 
the  rock.  Gulls  haunted  the  place.  The  black  petrel, 
the  Western  gull  and  the  black-footed  albatross  all  were 
to  be  found  here;  long  lines  of  white  gulls  marked  the 
cliff  edges,  and  far  above,  in  the  dazzling  azure  of  the 


272  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

sky,  a  Farallone  cormorant  circled  like  the  spirit  of  the 
place,  challenging  the  newcomers  with  its  cry. 

Harman  shifted  his  helm,  and  the  Heart  of  Ireland 
with  main  boom  swinging  to  port  came  gliding  past  the 
western  rocks  and  opening  the  sea  to  southward  where, 
far  on  the  horizon,  lovely  in  the  morning  light  like  vast 
ships  under  press  of  sail,  the  San  Lucas  Islands  lay 
remote  in  the  morning  splendour. 

Away  to  port  the  line  of  the  Californian  coast  showed 
beyond  the  heave  of  the  sea  from  Point  Arguello  to 
Point  Conception,  and  to  starboard  and  west  of  the  San 
Lucas's  a  dot  in  the  sun-dazzle  marked  the  peaks  of  the 
island  of  San  Nicolas. 

Then,  as  the  Heart  of  Ireland  came  around  and  the 
full  view  of  the  south  of  San  Juan  burst  upon  them,  the 
wreck  piled  on  the  rocks  came  in  sight,  and,  anchored 
quarter  of  a  mile  off  the  shore  —  a  Chinese  junk ! 

"  Well,  I'm  damned,"  said  Harman. 

Ginnell,  seizing  his  glasses,  rushed  forward  and 
looked  through  them  at  the  wreck. 

"  It's  swarmin'  with  chows,"  cried  he,  coming  aft. 
:<  They  seem  to  have  only  just  landed,  be  the  look  of 
them.  Keep  her  as  she  goes  and  be  ready  with  the  anchor 
there  forrard;  we'll  scupper  them  yet.  Mr.  Harman,  be 
plazed  to  fetch  up  that  linth  of  lead  pipe  you'll  find  on  the 
cabin  flure  be  the  door.  Capt'in,  will  you  see  with  Charlie 
here  to  the  boat  while  I  get  the  anchor  ready  for  droppin' ; 
them  coolies  is  all  thumbs." 

He  went  forward,  and  the  Heart  of  Ireland,  with  the 
wind  spilling  out  of  her  mainsail,  came  along  over  the 
heaving  blue  swell,  satin-smooth  here  in  the  shelter  of 
the  island. 

Truly  the  Yan-Shan,  late  Robert  Bullmer,  had  made  a 
masterpiece  of  her  last  business;  she  had  come  stem 
on,  lifted  by  the  piling  sea,  and  had  hit  the  rocks,  smash- 


THE  SALVING  OF  THE  YAN-SHAN     273 

ing  every  bow-plate  from  the  keel  to  within  a  yard  or 
two  of  the  gunnel,  then  a  wave  had  taken  her  under  the 
stern  and  lifted  her  and  flung  her  broadside  on  just  as  she 
now  lay,  pinned  to  her  position  by  the  rock  horns  that  had 
gored  her  side,  and  showing  a  space  of  her  rust-red  bottom 
to  the  sun. 

The  water  was  squattering  among  the  rocks  right  up 
to  her,  the  phosphor-bronze  propeller  showed  a  single 
blade  cocked  crookedly  at  the  end  of  the  broken  screw 
shaft;  rudder  there  was  none,  the  funnel  was  gone,  spar 
deck  and  bridge  were  in  wrack  and  ruin,  whilst  the  cowl 
of  a  bent  ventilator  turned  seaward  seemed  contemplat- 
ing with  a  languid  air  the  beauty  of  the  morning  and  the 
view  of  the  far  distant  San  Lucas  Islands. 

The  Heart  of  Ireland  picked  up  a  berth  inside  the  junk, 
and  as  the  rasp  and  rattle  of  the  anchor  chain  came  back 
in  faint  echoes  from  the  cliff,  a  gong  on  the  junk  woke  to 
life  and  began  to  snarl  and  roar  its  warning  to  the  fellows 
on  the  wreck. 

"  Down  with  the  boat,"  cried  Ginnell.  With  the 
"  linth  of  lead  pipe,"  a  most  formidable  weapon,  sticking 
from  his  pocket,  he  ran  to  help  with  the  falls;  the  whaJ<e- 
boat  smacked  the  water,  the  crew  tumbled  in,  and,  with 
Ginnell  in  the  bow,  it  started  for  the  shore. 

The  gong  had  done  its  work.  The  fellows  who  had 
been  crawling  like  ants  over  the  dead  body  of  the  Yan- 
Shan  came  slithering  down  on  ropes,  appeared  running 
and  stumbling  over  the  rocks  abaft  the  stern,  some  haul- 
ing along  sacks  of  loot,  others  brandishing  sticks  or  bits 
of  timber,  and  all  shouting  and  clamouring  with  a  noise 
like  gulls  whose  nests  are  being  raided. 

There  was  a  small  scrap  of  shingly  beach  off  which  the 
Chinamen's  scow  was  lying  anchored  with  a  stone  and 
with  a  China  boy  for  anchor  watch.  The  whale-boat 
passed  the  scow,  dashed  nose  end  up  the  shelving  beach, 


274  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

and  the  next  moment  Ginnell  and  his  linth  of  lead  pipe 
was  amongst  the  Chinamen,  whilst  Blood,  following  him, 
was  firing  his  revolver  over  their  heads.  Harman,  with 
a  crowbar  carried  at  the  level,  was  aiming  straight  at 
the  belly  of  the  biggest  of  the  foe,  when  they  parted  right 
and  left,  dropping  everything,  beaten  before  they  were 
touched,  and  making  for  the  water  over  the  rocks. 

Swimming  like  rats,  they  made  for  the  scow,  scrambled 
on  board  her,  howked  up  the  anchor  stone  and  shot  out 
the  oars. 

"  They're  off  for  the  junk,"  cried  Ginnell.  "  Faith, 
that  was  a  clane  bit  of  work;  look  at  thim  rowin'  as  if 
the  divil  was  after  thim." 

They  were,  literally,  and  now  on  board  the  junk  they 
were  hauling  the  boat  in,  shaking  out  the  lateen  sail 
and  dragging  up  the  anchor  as  though  a  hundred  pair 
of  hands  were  at  work  instead  of  twenty. 

Then,  as  the  huge  sail  bellied  gently  to  the  wind  and 
the  junk  broke  the  violet  breeze  shadow  beyond  the  calm 
of  the  sheltered  water,  a  voice  came  over  the  sea,  a  voice 
like  the  clamour  of  a  hundred  gulls,  thin,  rending,  fierce 
as  the  sound  of  tearing  calico. 

"  Shout  away,  me  boys,"  said  Ginnell.  "  You've  got 
the  shout  and  we've  got  the  boodle,  and  good  day  to  ye." 

Ill 

HE  turned  with  the  others  to  examine  the  contents  of 
the  sacks  dropped  by  the  vanquished  ones  and  lying 
amongst  the  rocks.  They  were  old  gunny  bags  and  they 
were  stuffed  with  all  sorts  of  rubbish  and  valuables, 
musical  instruments,  bits  of  old  metal,  cabin  curtains, 
and  even  cans  of  bully  beef  —  there  was  no  sign  of 
dollars. 

"  The  fools  were  so  busy  picking  up  everything  they 


THE  SALVING  OF  THE  YAN-SHAN     275 

could  find  lying  about,  they  hadn't  time  to  search  for 
the  real  stuff,"  said  Blood.  "  Didn't  know  of  it." 

"  Well,"  said  Ginnell,  "  stick  the  ould  truck  back  in 
the  bags  with  the  insthruments ;  we'll  sort  it  out  when 
we  get  aboard  and  fling  the  rubbish  over  and  keep  what's 
worth  keepin'." 

Helped  by  the  coolies,  they  refilled  the  bags  and  left 
them  in  position  for  carrying  off,  and  then,  led  by  Ginnell, 
they  made  round  the  stern  of  the  wreck  to  the  port  side. 

Now,  on  the  sea  side  the  Yan-Shan  presented  a  bad 
enough  picture  of  desolation  and  destruction,  but  here  on 
the  land  side  the  sight  was  terrific. 

The  great  yellow  funnel  had  crashed  over  on  to  the 
rocks  and  lay  with  lengths  of  the  guys  still  adhering  to 
it;  a  quarter  boat  with  bottom  half  out  had  gone  the 
way  of  the  funnel;  crabs  were  crawling  over  all  sorts 
of  raffle,  broken  spars,  canvas  from  the  bridge  screen 
and  woodwork  of  the  chart-house,  whilst  all  forward  of 
amidships  the  plates,  beaten  and  twisted  and  ripped 
apart,  showed  cargo,  held,  or  in  the  act  of  escaping. 
One  big  packing  case,  free  of  the  ship,  had  resolved  itself 
into  staves  round  its  once  contents,  a  piano  that  r.ppeared 
perfectly  uninjured. 

A  rope  ladder  hung  from  the  bulwarks  amidships,  and 
up  it  Ginnell  went,  followed  by  the  others,  reaching  a 
roofless  passage  that  had  once  been  the  part  alley-way. 

Here  on  the  slanting  deck  one  got  a  full  picture  of  the 
ruin  that  had  come  on  the  ship;  the  masts  were  gone, 
as  well  as  the  funnel ;  boats,  ventilators  —  with  the  ex- 
ception of  the  twisted  cowl  looking  seaward  —  bridge, 
chart-house,  all  had  vanished  wholly  or  in  part,  a  picture 
made  more  impressive  by  the  calm  blue  sky  overhead 
and  the  brilliancy  of  the  sunlight. 

The  locking  bars  had  been  removed  from  the  cover 
of  the  fore  hatch  and  the  hatch  opened,  evidently  by 


276  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

the  Chinese  in  search  of  plunder.  Ginnell  scarcely  turned 
an  eye  on  it  before  he  made  aft,  followed  by  the  others, 
he  reached  the  saloon  companion-way  and  dived  down 
it. 

If  the  confusion  on  deck  was  bad,  it  was  worse  below. 
The  cabin  doors  on  either  side  were  either  open  or  off 
their  hinges,  bunk  bedding,  mattresses,  an  open  and  rifled 
valise,  some  women's  clothes,  an  empty  cigar-box  and 
a  cage  with  a  dead  canary  in  it  lay  on  the  floor. 

The  place  looked  as  if  an  army  of  pillagers  had  been 
at  work  for  days,  and  the  sight  struck  a  chill  to  the 
hearts  of  the  beholders. 

"  We're  dished,"  said  Ginnell.  "Quick,  boys,  if  the 
stuff's  anywhere  it'll  be  in  the  old  man's  cabin,  there's  no 
mail  room  in  a  packet  like  this.  If  it's  not  there,  we're 
done." 

They  found  the  captain's  cabin,  they  found  his  papers 
tossed  about,  his  cash-box  open  and  empty,  and  a  strong 
box  clamped  to  the  deck  by  the  bunk  in  the  same  condi- 
tion. They  found,  to  complete  the  business,  an  English 
sovereign  on  the  floor  in  a  corner. 

Ginnell  sat  down  on  the  edge  of  the  bunk. 

"They've  got  the  dollars,"  said  he.  "That's  why 
they  legged  it  so  quick  and  —  we  let  them  go.  Twenty 
thousand  dollars  in  gold  coin  and  we  let  them  go.  Tear 
an'  ages!  Afther  them!  "  He  sprang  from  the  bunk 
and  dashed  through  the  saloon,  followed  by  the  others. 
On  deck  they  strained  their  eyes  seaward  towards  a  brown 
spot  on  the  blue  far,  far  away  to  the  sou'-west.  It  was 
the  junk  making  a  soldier's  wind  of  it,  every  inch  of 
sail  spread.  Judging  by  the  distance  she  had  covered, 
she  must  have  been  makfng  at  least  eight  knots,  and  the 
Heart  of  Ireland  under  similar  wind  conditions  was  in- 
capable of  more  than  seven. 

"  No  good  chasing  her,"  said  Blood. 


THE  SALVING  OF  THE  YAN-SHAN     277 

» 

"  Not  a  happorth,"  replied  Ginnell.  Then  the  quarrel 
began. 

"  If  you  hadn't  held  us  pokin'  over  them  old  sacks  on 
the  rocks  there  we'd  maybe  have  had  a  chance  of  over- 
haulin'  her,"  said  Ginnell. 

"Sacks,"  cried  Blood,  "what  are  you  talking  about; 
it  was  you  who  let  them  go,  shouting  good  day  to  them 
and  telling  them  we'd  got  the  boodle !  " 

"  Boodle,  b'g-d!  "  cried  Ginnell.  "  You're  a  nice  chap 
to  talk  about  boodle.  You  did  me  in  an'  collared  me  boat, 
and  now  you're  let  down  proper,  and  serve  you  right." 

Blood  was  about  to  reply  in  kind,  when  the  dispute 
was  cut  short  by  a  loud  yell  from  the  engine-room  hatch. 

Harman,  having  satisfied  himself  with  a  glance  that 
all  was  up  with  the  junk,  had  gone  poking  about  and 
entered  the  engine-room  hatchway.  He  now  appeared, 
shouting  like  a  maniac. 

"  The  dollars,"  he  cried,  "  two  dead  Chinkies  an'  the 
dollars." 

He  vanished  again  with  a  shout,  they  rushed  to  the 
hatch,  and  there,  on  the  steel  grating  leading  to  the 
ladder,  curled  together  like  two  cats  that  had  died  in  bat- 
tle, lay  the  Chinamen,  Harman  kneeling  beside  them,  his 
hands  at  work  on  the  neck  of  a  tied  sack  that  chinked 
as  he  shook  it  with  the  glorious  rich,  mellow  sound  that 
gold  in  bulk  and  gold  in  specie  alone  can  give. 

The  lanyard  came  away,  and  Harman,  plunging  his 
big  hand  in,  produced  it  filled  with  British  sovereigns. 

Not  one  of  them  moved  or  said  a  word  for  a  moment, 
then  Ginnell  suddenly  squatted  down  on  the  grating  be- 
side Harman,  and,  taking  a  sovereign  between  finger  and 
thumb  gingerly,  as  though  he  feared  it  might  burn  him, 
examined  it  with  a  laugh.  T^eh  he  bit  it,  spun  it  in  the 
air,  caught  it  in  his  left  hand  and  brought  his  great  right 
palm  down  on  it  with  a  bang. 


278  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

"  Hids  or  tails !  "  cried  Ginnell.  "Hids  I  win,  tails 
you  lose."  He  gave  a  coarse  laugh  as  he  opened  his 
palm,  where  the  coin  lay  tail  up. 

"  Hids  it  is,"  he  cried,  then  he  tossed  it  back  into  the 
bag  and  rose  to  his  feet. 

"  Come  on,  boys,"  said  he,  "let's  bring  the  stuff  down 
to  the  saloon  and  count  it." 

"  Better  get  it  aboard,"  said  Blood. 

Harman  looked  up.  The  grin  on  his  face  stamped 
by  the  finding  of  the  gold  was  still  there,  and  in  the  light 
coming  through  the  hatch  his  forehead  showed  beaded 
with  sweat. 

"  I'm  with  Ginnell,"  said  he,  "  let's  get  down  to  the 
saloon  for  an  overhaul.  I  can't  wait  whiles  we  row  off 
to  the  schooner.  I  wants  to  feel  the  stuff  and  I  wants 
to  divide  it,  b'g-d,  right  off  and  now.  Boys,  we're  rich, 
we  sure  are.  It's  the  stroke  of  my  life,  and  I  can't  wait 
for  no  rowin'  on  board  no  schooners  before  we  divide  up." 

"  Come  on,  then,"  said  Blood. 

The  sack  was  much  bigger  than  its  contents,  so  there 
was  plenty  of  grip  for  him  as  he  seized  one  corner.  Then, 
Harman  grasping  it  by  the  neck,  they  lugged  it  out  and 
along  the  deck  and  down  the  saloon  companionway, 
Ginnell  following. 

The  Chinese  had  opened  nearly  all  the  cabin  port-holes 
for  the  sake  of  light  to  assist  them  in  their  plundering, 
and  now  as  Blood  and  Harman  placed  the  sack  on  the 
slanting  saloon  table,  the  crying  of  gulls  came  clearly 
and  derisively  from  the  cliffs  outside,  mixed  with  the 
hush  of  the  sea  and  the  boost  of  the  swell  as  it  broke 
creaming  and  squattering  among  the  rocks.  The  lacka- 
daisical ventilator  cowl,  which  took  an  occasional  move- 
ment from  stray  puffs  of  air,  added  its  voice  now  and 
then,  whining  and  complaining  like  some  lost  yet 
inconsiderable  soul. 


THE  SALVING  OF  THE  YAN-SHAN     279 

No  other  sound  could  be  heard  as  the  three  men  ranged 
themselves,  Ginnell  on  the  starboard,  and  Blood  and 
Harman  on  the  port  side  of  the  table. 

The  swivel  seats,  though  all  aslant,  were  practicable, 
and  Harman  was  in  the  act  of  taking  his  place  in  the 
seat  he  had  chosen  when  Ginnell  interposed. 

"  One  moment,  Mr.  Harman,"  said  the  owner  of  the 
Heart  of  Ireland.  "I've  a  word  to  say  to  you  and  Mr. 
Blood  —  sure,  I  beg  your  pardon  —  I  mane  Capt'in 
Blood." 

"  Well,"  said  Blood,  grasping  a  chair-back.  "  What 
have  you  to  say?  " 

"  Only  this,"  replied  Ginnell  with  a  grin.  "  I've  got 
back  me  revolver." 

Blood  clapped  his  hand  to  his  pocket.     It  was  empty. 

"  I  picked  your  pocket  of  it,"  said  Ginnell,  producing 
the  weapon,  "  two  minits  back;  you  fired  three  shots 
over  the  heads  of  them  chows  and  there's  three  ca'tridges 
left  in  her.  I  can  hit  a  dollar  at  twinty  long  paces.  Move 
an  inch  either  the  one  or  other  of  you,  and  I'll  lay  your 
brains  on  the  table  fornint  you." 

They  did  not  move,  for  they  knew  that  he  was  in  earn- 
est. They  knew  that  if  they  moved  he  would  begin  to 
shoot,  and  if  he  began  to  shoot  he  would  finish  the  job, 
leave  their  corpses  on  the  floor,  and  sail  off  with  the 
dollars  and  his  Chinese  crew  in  perfect  safety.  There 
were  no  witnesses. 

"  Now,"  said  Ginnell,  "  what  the  pair  of  you  have  to 
do  is  this.  Misther  Harman,  you'll  go  into  that  cabin 
behind  you,  climb  on  the  upper  bunk,  stick  your  head 
through  the  port-hole  and  shout  to  the  coolies  down 
below  there  with  the  boat  to  come  up.  It'll  take  two  men 
to  get  them  dollars  on  deck  and  down  to  the  wather  side. 
When  you've  done  that,  the  pair  of  you  will  walk  into 
the  ould  man's  cabin  an'  say  your  prayers,  thanking  the 


280  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

saints  you've  got  off  so  easy,  whiles  I  puts  the  bolt  on  you 
till  the  dollars  are  away.  And  remimber  this,  one  word 
or  kick  from  you  and  I  shoot  —  the  Chinamen  will 
never  tell." 

"  See  here,"  said  Harman. 

"  One  word!  "  shouted  Ginnell,  suddenly  dropping  the 
mask  of  urbanity  and  levelling  the  pistol. 

It  was  as  though  the  tiger-cat  in  his  grimy  soul  had 
suddenly  burst  bonds  and  mastered  him.  His  finger 
pressed  on  the  trigger  and  the  next  moment  Harman's 
brains,  or  what  he  had  of  them,  might  have  been  literally 
forenint  him  on  the  table,  when  suddenly,  tremendous  as 
the  last  trumpet,  paralysing  as  the  inrush  of  a  body  of 
armed  men,  booing  and  bellowing  back  from  the  cliffs 
in  a  hundred  echoes  came  a  voice — the  blast  of  a  ship's 
syren. 

"  Huroop,  Hirrip,  Hurop,  Haar  —  Haar  —  Haar !  " 

Ginnell's  arm  fell.  Harman,  forgetting  everything, 
turned,  dashed  into  the  cabin  behind  him,  climbed  on  the 
upper  bunk,  and  stuck  his  head  through  the  port-hole. 

Then  he  dashed  back  into  the  saloon. 

"  It's  the  Port  of  Amsterdam"  cried  Harman,  "  it's 
the  salvage  ship,  she's  there  droppin'  her  anchor;  we're 
done,  we're  dished  —  and  we  foolin'  like  this  and  they 
crawlin'  up  on  us." 

"And  you  said  she'd  only  do  eight  knots!"  cried 
Blood. 

Ginnell  flung  the  revolver  on  the  floor.  Every  trace 
of  the  recent  occurrence  had  vanished,  and  the  three  men 
thought  no  more  of  one  another  than  a  man  thinks  of 
petty  matters  in  the  face  of  dissolution.  Gunderman  was 
outside,  that  was  enough  for  them. 

"  Boys,"  said  Ginnell,  "  ain't  there  no  way  out  with 
them  dollars?  S'pose  we  howk  them  ashore?" 


THE  SALVING  OF  THE  VAN-SHAN     281 

"  Cliffs  two  hundred  foot  high,"  said  Harman,  "  not  a 
chanst.  We're  dished." 

Said  Blood:  "  There's  only  one  thing  left.  We'll 
walk  the  dollars  down  to  the  boat  and  row  off  with  them. 
Of  course  we'll  be  stopped;  still,  there's  the  chance  that 
Gunderman  may  be  drunk  or  something.  It's  one  chance 
in  a  hundred  billion  —  it's  the  only  one." 

But  Gunderman  was  not  drunk,  nor  were  his  boat 
party;  and  the  court-martial  he  held  on  the  beach  in 
broken  English  and  with  the  sack  of  coin  beside  him  as 
chief  witness  would  form  a  bright  page  of  literature  had 
one  time  to  record  it. 

Ginnell,  as  owner  of  the  Heart  of  Ireland,  received  the 
whole  brunt  of  the  storm;  there  was  no  hearing  for  him 
when,  true  to  himself,  he  tried  to  cast  the  onus  of  the  busi- 
ness on  Blood  and  Harman.  He  was  told  to  get  out  and 
be  thankful  he  was  not  brought  back  to  'Frisco  in  irons, 
and  he  obeyed  instructions,  rowing  off  to  the  schooner, 
he  and  Harman  and  Blood,  a  melancholy  party  with  the 
exception  of  Blood,  who  was  talking  to  Harman  with 
extreme  animation  on  the  subject  of  beam  engines. 

On  deck  it  was  Blood  who  gave  orders  for  hauling  up 
the  anchor  and  setting  sail.  He  had  recaptured  the 
revolver. 


THE  DERELICT  NEPTUNE* 
From  "Spun  Gold,"  BY  MORGAN  ROBERTSON 

ACROSS  the  Atlantic  Ocean  from  the  Gulf  of  Guinea 
to  Cape  St.  Roque  moves  a  great  body  of  water — 
the  Main  Equatorial  Current — which  can  be  con- 
sidered the  motive  power,  or  mainspring,  of  the  whole 
Atlantic  current  system,  as  it  obtains  its  motion  directly 
from  the  ever-acting  push  of  the  tradewinds.  At  Cape  St. 
Roque  this  broad  current  splits  into  two  parts,  one  turning 
north,  the  other  south.  The  northern  part  contracts,  in- 
creases its  speed,  and,  passing  up  the  northern  coast  of 
South  America  as  the  Guiana  Current,  enters  through  the 
Caribbean  Sea  into  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  where  it  circles 
around  to  the  northward ;  then,  colored  a  deep  blue  from 
the  fine  river  silt  of  the  Mississippi,  and  heated  from 
its  long  surface  exposure  under  a  tropical  sun  to  an  aver- 
age temperature  of  eighty  degrees,  it  emerges  into  the 
Florida  Channel  as  the  Gulf  Stream. 

From  here  it  travels  northeast,  following  the  trend 
of  the  coast  line,  until,  off  Cape  Hatteras,  it  splits  into 
three  divisions,  one  of  which,  the  westernmost,  keeps  on 
to  lose  its  warmth  and  life  in  Baffin's  Bay.  Another  im- 
pinges on  the  Hebrides,  and  is  no  more  recognizable  as 
a  current;  and  the  third,  the  eastern  and  largest  part  of 
the  divided  stream,  makes  a  wide  sweep  to  the  east  and 
south,  enclosing  the  Azores  and  the  deadwater  called  the 
Sargasso  Sea,  then,  as  the  African  Current,  runs  down 
the  coast  until,  just  below  the  Canary  Isles,  it  merges 
into  the  Lesser  Equatorial  Current,  which,  parallel  to 
the  parent  stream,  and  separated  from  it  by  a  narrow 

*  Reprinted  by  courtesy  of  Harper  &  Brothers. 

282 


THE  DERELICT  NEPTUNE  283 

band  of  backwater,  travels  west  and  filters  through  the 
West  Indies,  making  puzzling  combinations  with  the 
tides,  and  finally  bearing  so  heavily  on  the  young  Gulf 
Stream  as  to  give  to  it  the  sharp  turn  to  the  northward 
through  the  Florida  Channel. 

In  the  South  Atlantic,  the  portion  of  the  Main  Equa- 
torial Current  split  off  by  Cape  St.  Roque  and  directed 
south  leaves  the  coast  at  Cape  Frio,  and  at  the  latitude 
of  the  River  Plate  assumes  a  due  easterly  direction,  cross- 
ing the  ocean  as  the  Southern  Connecting  Current.  At 
the  Cape  of  Good  Hope  it  meets  the  cold,  northeasterly 
Cape  Horn  Current,  and  with  it  passes  up  the  coast  of 
Africa  to  join  the  Equatorial  Current  at  the  starting-point 
in  the  Gulf  of  Guinea,  the  whole  constituting  a  circula- 
tory system  of  ocean  rivers,  of  speed  value  varying  from 
eighteen  to  ninety  miles  a  day. 

On  a  bright  morning  in  November,  1894,  .a  curious- 
looking  craft  floated  into  the  branch  current  which,  skirt- 
ing Cuba,  fiows  westward  through  the  Bahama  Channel. 
A  man  standing  on  the  highest  of  two  points  enclosing  a 
small  bay  near  Cape  Maisi,  after  a  critical  examination 
through  a  telescope,  disappeared  from  the  rocks,  and  in 
a  few  moments  a  light  boat,  of  the  model  used  by  whalers, 
emerged  from  the  mouth  of  the  bay,  containing  this  man 
and  another.  In  the  boat  also  was  a  coil  of  rope. 

The  one  who  had  inspected  the  craft  from  the  rocks 
was  a  tall  young  fellow,  dressed  in  flannel  shirt  and 
trousers,  the  latter  held  in  place  by  a  cartridge-belt,  such 
as  is  used  by  the  American  cowboy.  To  this  was  hung  a 
heavy  revolver.  On  his  head  was  a  broad-brimmed  cork 
helmet,  much  soiled,  and  resembling  in  shape  the  Mexi- 
can sombrero.  Beneath  this  head-gear  was  a  mass  of 
brown  hair,  which  showed  a  non-acquaintance  with  bar- 
bers for,  perhaps,  months,  and  under  this  hair  a  sun- 
tanned faqe,  lighted  by  serious  gray  eyes.  The  most  no- 


284  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

ticeable  feature  of  this  face  was  the  extreme  arching  of 
the  eyebrows — a  never-failing  index  of  the  highest  form 
of  courage.  It  was  a  face  that  would  please.  The  face 
of  the  other  was  equally  pleasing  in  its  way.  It  was  red, 
round,  and  jolly,  with  twinkling  eyes,  the  whole  borrow- 
ing a  certain  dignity  from  closely  cut  white  hair  and  mus- 
taches. The  man  was  about  fifty,  dressed  and  armed 
like  the  other. 

"What  do  you  want  of  pistols,  Boston  ?"  he  said  to 
the  younger  man.  "One  might  think  this  an  old-fash- 
ioned, piratical  cutting  out." 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,  Doc.  It's  best  to  have  them.  That 
hulk  may  be  full  of  Spaniards,  and  the  whole  thing  no- 
thing but  a  trick  to  draw  us  out.  But  she  looks  like  a 
derelict.  I  don't  see  how  she  got  into  this  channel,  un- 
less she  drifted  up  past  Cape  Maisi  from  the  southward, 
having  come  hi  with  the  Guiana  Current.  It's  all  rocks 
and  shoals  to  the  eastward." 

The  boat,  under  the  impulse  of  their  oars,  soon  passed 
the  fringing  reef  and  came  in  sight  of  the  strange  craft, 
which  lay  about  a  mile  east  and  half  a  mile  off  shore. 
"You  see,"  resumed  the  younger  man,  called  Boston, 
"there's  a  back-water  inside  Point  Mulas,  and  if  she  gets 
into  it  she  may  come  ashore  right  here." 

"Where  we  can  loot  her.  Nice  business  for  a  respect- 
able practitioner  like  me  to  be  engaged  in!  Doctor 
Bryce,  of  Havana,  consorting  with  Fenians  from  Canada, 
exiled  German  socialists,  Cuban  horse-thieves  who  would 
be  hung  in  a  week  if  they  went  to  Texas,  and  a  long-leg- 
ged sailor  man  who  calls  himself  a  retired  naval  officer, 
but  who  looks  like  a  pirate;  and  all  shouting  for  Cuba 
Libre!  Cuba  Libre!  It's  plunder  you  want." 

"But  none  of  us  ever  manufactured  dynamite,"  an- 
swered Boston,  with  a  grin.  "How  long  did  they  have 
you  in  Moro  Castle,  Doc?" 


THE  DERELICT  NEPTUNE  285 

"Eight  months/'  snapped  the  doctor,  his  face  clouding. 
"Eight  months  in  that  rathole,  with  the  loss  of  my  prop- 
erty and  practice — all  for  devotion  to  science.  I  was  on 
the  brink  of  the  most  important  and  beneficent  discovery 
in  explosives  the  world  ever  dreamed  of.  Yes,  sir, 
'twould  have  made  me  famous  and  stopped  all  warfare." 

"The  captain  told  me  this  morning  that  he'd  heard 
from  Marti,"  said  Boston,  after  an  interval.  "Good 
news,  he  said,  but  that's  all  I  learned.  Maybe  it's  from 
Gomez.  If  he'll  only  take  hold  again  we  can  chase  the 
Spanish  off  the  island  now.  Then  we'll  put  some  of  your 
stuff  under  Moro  and  lift  it  off  the  earth." 

In  a  short  time,  details  of  the  craft  ahead,  hitherto 
hidden  by  distance,  began  to  show.  There  was  no  sign 
of  life  aboard;  her  spars  were  gone,  with  the  exception 
of  the  foremast,  broken  at  the  hounds,  and  she  seemed 
to  be  of  about  a  thousand  tons  burden,  colored  a  mixed 
brown  and  dingy  gray,  which,  as  they  drew  near,  was 
shown  as  the  action  of  iron  rust  on  black  and  lead-colored 
paint.  Here  and  there  were  outlines  of  painted  ports. 
Under  the  stump  of  a  shattered  bowsprit  projected  from 
between  bluff  bows  a  weather-worn  figurehead,  repre- 
senting the  god  of  the  sea.  Above  on  the  bows  were 
wooden-stocked  anchors  stowed  inboard,  and  aft  on  the 
quarters  were  iron  davits  with  blocks  intact — but  no  falls. 
In  a  few  of  the  dead-eyes  in  the  channels  could  be  seen 
frayed  rope-yarns,  rotten  with  age,  and,  with  the  stump 
of  the  foremast,  the  wooden  stocks  of  the  anchors,  and 
the  teak-wood  rail,  of  a  bleached  gray  color.  On  the 
round  stern,  as  they  pulled  under  it,  they  spelled,  in  raised 
letters,  flecked  here  and  there  with  discolored  gilt,  the 
name  "Neptune,  of  London."  Unkempt  and  forsaken, 
she  had  come  in  from  the  mysterious  sea  to  tell  her  story. 

The  climbed  the  channels,  fastened  the  painter,  and 
peered  over  the  rail.  There  was  no  one  in  sight,  and  they 


286  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

sprang  down,  finding  themselves  on  a  deck  that  was  soft 
and  spongy  with  time  and  weather. 

"She's  an  old  tub,"  said  Boston,  scanning  the  gray 
fabric  fore  and  aft;  "one  of  the  first  iron  ships  built,  I 
should  think.  They  housed  the  crew  under  the  t'gallant 
forecastle.  See  the  doors  forward,  there?  And  she  has 
a  full-decked  cabin — that's  old  style.  Hatchers  are  all 
battened  down,  but  I  doubt  if  this  tarpaulin  holds  water." 
He  stepped  on  the  main  hatch,  brought  his  weight  on  the 
ball  of  one  foot,  and  turned  around.  The  canvas  crum- 
bled to  threads,  showing  the  wood  beneath.  "Let's  go  be- 
low. If  there  were  any  Spaniards  here  they'd  have  shown 
themselves  before  this."  The  cabin  doors  were  latched 
but  not  locked,  and  they  opened  them. 

"Hold  on,"  said  the  doctor,  "this  cabin  may  have  been 
closed  for  years,  and  generated  poisonous  gases.  Open 
that  upper  door,  Boston." 

Boston  ran  up  the  shaky  poop  ladder  and  opened  the 
companion-way  above,  which  let  a  stream  of  the  fresh 
morning  air  and  sunshine  into  the  cabin,  then,  after  a 
moment  or  two,  descended  and  joined  the  other,  who  had 
entered  from  the  main-deck.  They  were  in  an  ordinary 
ship's  cabin,  surrounded  by  staterooms,  and  with  the 
usual  swinging  lamp  and  tray;  but  the  table,  chairs,  and 
floor  were  covered  with  fine  dust. 

"Where  the  deuce  do  you  get  so  much  dust  at  sea?" 
coughed  the  doctor. 

"Nobody  knows,  Doc.  Let's  hunt  for  the  manifest  and 
the  articles.  This  must  have  been  the  skipper's  room." 
They  entered  the  largest  stateroom,  and  Boston  opened 
an  old-fashioned  desk.  Among  the  discolored  docu- 
ments it  contained,  he  found  one  and  handed  it  to  the 
doctor.  "Articles,"  he  said  ;  "look  at  it."  Soon  he  took 
out  another.  "I've  got  it.  Now  we'll  find  what  she  has 
in  her  hold,  and  if  it's  worth  bothering  about." 


THE  DERELICT  NEPTUNE  287 

"Great  Scott!"  exclaimed  the  doctor;  uthis  paper  is 
dated  1844,  fifty  years  ago."  Boston  looked  over  his 
shoulder. 

"That's  so ;  she  signed  her  crew  at  Boston,  too.  Where 
has  she  been  all  this  time?  Let's  see  this  one." 

The  manifest  was  short,  and  stated  that  her  cargo  was 
3000  barrels  of  lime,  8000  kids  of  tallow,  and  2500  car- 
boys of  acid,  1700  of  which  were  sulphuric,  the  rest  of 
nitric  acid.  "That  cargo  won't  be  much  good  to  us,  Doc. 
I'd  hope  to  find  something  we  could  use.  Let's  find  the 
log-book,  and  see  what  happened  to  her."  Boston  rum- 
maged what  seemed  to  be  the  first-mate's  room.  "Plenty 
of  duds  here,"  he  said;  "but  they're  ready  to  fall  to 
pieces.  Here's  the  log." 

He  returned  with  the  book,  and,  seated  at  the  dusty 
table,  they  turned  the  yellow  leaves.  "First  departure, 
Highland  Light,  March  10,  1844,"  read  Boston.  "We'll 
look  in  the  remarks  column." 

Nothing  but  the  ordinary  incidents  of  a  voyage  were 
found  until  they  reached  the  date  June  1st,  where  entry  was 
made  of  the  ship  being  "caught  aback"  and  dismasted  off 
the  Cape  of  Good  Hope  in  a  sudden  gale.  Then  followed 
daily  "remarks"  of  the  southeasterly  drift  of  the  ship,  the 
extreme  cold  (which,  with  the  continuance  of  the  bad 
weather,  prevented  saving  the  wreck  for  jury-masts),  and 
the  fact  that  no  sails  were  sighted. 

June  6th  told  of  her  being  locked  in  soft,  slushy  ice, 
and  still  being  pressed  southward  by  the  never-ending 
gale;  June  10th  said  that  the  ice  was  hard,  and  at  June 
15th  was  the  terrible  entry:  "Fire  in  the  hold!" 

On  June  16th  was  entered  this:  "Kept  hatches  bat- 
tened down  and  stopped  all  air-holes,  but  the  deck  is  too 
hot  to  stand  on,  and  getting  hotter.  Crew  insist  on  low- 
ering the  boats  and  pulling  them  northward  over  the  ice 
to  open  water  in  hopes  of  being  picked  up.  Good-bye." 


288  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

In  the  position  columns  of  this  date  the  latitude  was  given 
as  62  degrees  44  minutes  S.  and  the  longitude  as  30  de- 
grees 50  minutes  E.  There  were  no  more  entries. 

"What  tragedy  docs  this  tell  of?"  said  the  doctor. 
"They  left  this  ship  in  the  ice  fifty  years  ago.  Who  can 
tell  if  they  were  saved?" 

"Who  indeed?"  said  Boston.  "The  mate  hadn't 
much  hope.  He  said  'Good-bye/  But  one  thing  is 
certain;  we  are  the  first  to  board  her  since.  I  take  it  she 
stayed  down  there  in  the  ice  until  she  drifted  around 
the  Pole,  and  thawed  out  where  she  could  catch  the  Cape 
Horn  current,  which  took  her  up  to  the  Hope.  Then 
she  came  up  with  the  South  African  Curent  till  she  got 
into  the  Equatorial  drift,  then  west,  and  up  with  the 
Guiana  Current  into  the  Caribbean  Sea  to  the  southward 
of  us,  and  this  morning  the  flood-tide  brought  her 
through.  It  isn't  a  question  of  winds;  they're  too  vari- 
able. It's  currents,  though  it  may  have  taken  her  years 
to  get  here.  But  the  surprising  part  of  it  is  that  she 
hasn't  been  boarded.  Let's  look  in  the  hold  and  see 
what  the  fire  has  done." 

When  they  boarded  the  hulk,  the  sky,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  a  filmy  haze  overhanging  the  eastern  end  of 
the  island,  was  clear.  Now,  as  they  emerged  from  the 
cabin,  this  haze  had  solidified  and  was  coming — one  of 
the  black  and  vicious  squalls  of  the  West  India  seas. 

"No  man  can  tell  what  wind  there  is  in  them,"  re- 
marked Boston,  as  he  viewed  it.  "But  it's  pretty  close 
to  the  water,  and  dropping  rain.  Hold  on,  there,  Doc. 
Stay  aboard.  We  couldn't  pull  ashore  in  the  teeth  of 
it."  The  doctor  had  made  a  spasmodic  leap  to  the  rail. 
"If  the  chains  were  shackled  on,  we  might  drop  one  of 
the  hooks  and  hold  her;  but  it's  two  hours  work  for  a 
full  crew." 


THE  DERELICT  NEPTUNE  289 

"But  we're  likely  to  be  blown  away,  aren't  we?"  asked 
the  doctor. 

"Not  far.  I  don't  think  it  '11  last  long.  We'll  make 
the  boat  fast  astern  and  get  out  of  the  wet."  They  did 
so,  and  entered  the  cabin.  Soon  the  squall,  coming  with 
a  shock  like  that  of  a  solid  blow,  struck  the  hulk  broad- 
side to  and  careened  her.  From  the  cabin  door  they 
watched  the  nearly  horizontal  rain  as  it  swished  across  the 
deck,  and  listened  to  the  screaming  of  the  wind,  which 
prevented  all  conversation.  Silently  they  waited — one 
hour — two  hours — then  Boston  said:  "This  is  getting 
serious.  It's  no  squall.  If  it  wasn't  so  late  in  the  sea- 
son I'd  call  it  a  hurricane.  I'm  going  on  deck." 

He  climbed  the  companionway  stairs  to  the  poop, 
and  shut  the  scuttle  behind  him — for  the  rain  was  flood- 
ing the  cabin — then  looked  around.  The  shore  and  hor- 
izon were  hidden  by  a  dense  wall  of  gray,  which  seemed 
not  a  hundred  feet  distant.  From  to  windward  this 
wall  was  detaching  great  waves  or  sheets  of  almost  solid 
water,  which  bombarded  the  ship  in  successive  blows,  to 
be  then  lost  in  the  gray  whirl  to  leeward.  Overhead 
was  the  same  dismal  hue,  marked  by  hurrying  masses  of 
darker  cloud,  and  below  was  a  sea  of  froth,  white  and 
flat;  for  no  waves  could  rise  their  heads  in  that  wind/ 
Drenched  to  the  skin,  he  tried  the  wheel  and  found  it 
free  in  its  movements.  In  front  of  it  was  a  substantial 
binnacle,  and  within  a  compass,  which,  though  sluggish, 
as  from  a  well-worn  pivot,  was  practically  in  good  con- 
dition. "Blowing  us  about  nor'west  by  west,"  he  mut- 
tered, as  he  looked  at  it — "straight  up  the  coast.  It's 
better  than  the  beach  in  this  weather,  but  may  land  us 
in  Havana."  He  examined  he  boat.  It  was  full  of 
water,  and  tailing  to  windward,  held  by  its  painter. 
Making  sure  that  this  was  fast,  he  went  down. 

"Doc,"  he  said,  as  he  squeezed  the  water  from  his 


290  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

limp  cork  helmet  and  flattened  it  on  the  table,  "have 
you  any  objections  to  being  rescued  by  some  craft  going 
into  Havana?" 

"I  have — decided  objections." 

"So  have  I;  but  this  wind  is  blowing  us  there — side- 
ways. Now,  such  a  blow  as  this,  at  this  time  of  year, 
will  last  three  days  at  least,  and  I've  an  idea  that  it'll 
haul  gradually  to  the  south,  and  west  towards  the  end 
of  it.  Where'll  we  be  then?  Either  piled  up  on  one 
of  the  Bahama  keys  or  interviewed  by  the  Spaniards. 
Now  I've  been  thinking  of  a  scheme  on  deck.  We  can't 
get  back  to  camp  for  a  while — that's  settled.  This  iron 
hull  is  worth  something,  and  if  we  can  take  it  into  an 
American  port  we  can  claim  salvage.  Key  West  is  the 
nearest,  but  Fernandina  is  the  surest.  We've  got  a 
stump  of  a  foremast  and  a  rudder  and  a  compass.  If 
we  can  get  some  kind  of  sail  up  forward  and  bring  her 
'fore  the  wind,  we  can  steer  any  course  within  thirty  de- 
grees of  the  wind  line." 

"But  I  can't  steer.  And  how  long  will  this  voyage 
take?  What  will  we  eat?" 

"Yes,  you  can  steer — good  enough.  And,  of  course, 
it  depends  on  food,  and  water,  too.  We'd  better  catch 
some  of  this  that's  going  to  waste." 

In  what  had  been  the  steward's  storeroom  they  found 
a  harness-cask  with  bones  and  dry  rust  in  the  bottom. 
"It's  salt  meat,  I  suppose,"  said  the  doctor,  "reduced 
to  its  elements."  With  the  handles  of  their  pistols  they 
carefully  hammered  down  the  rusty  hoops  over  the 
shrunken  staves,  which  were  well  preserved  by  the  brine 
they  had  once  held,  and  taking  the  cask  on  deck,  cleaned 
it  thoroughly  under  the  scuppers — or  drain-holes — of 
the  poop,  and  let  it  stand  under  the  stream  of  water 
to  swell  and  sweeten  itself. 

"If  we  find  more  casks  we'll  catch  some  more,"  said 


THE  DERELICT  NEPTUNE  291 

Boston;  "but  that  will  last  us  two  weeks.  Now  we'll 
hunt  for  her  stores.  I've  eaten  salt-horse  twenty  years 
old,  but  I  can't  vouch  for  what  we  may  find  here."  They 
examined  all  the  rooms  adjacent  to  the  cabin,  but  found 
nothing. 

"Where's  the  lazarette  in  this  kind  of  a  ship?"  asked 
Boston.  "The  cabin  runs  right  aft  to  the  stern.  It 
must  be  below  us."  He  found  that  the  carpet  was  not 
tacked  to  the  floor,  and,  raising  the  after  end,  discovered 
a  hatch,  or  trap-door,  which  he  lifted.  Below,  when 
their  eyes  were  accustomed  to  the  darkness,  they  saw 
boxes  and  barrels — all  covered  with  the  same  fine  dust 
which  filled  the  cabin. 

"Don't  go  down  there,  yet,  Boston,"  said  the  doctor. 
"It  may  be  full  of  carbonic  acid  gas.  She's  been  afire, 
you  know.  Wait."  He  tore  a  strip  from  some  bedding 
in  one  of  the  rooms,  and,  lighting  one  end  by  means  of 
a  flint  and  steel  which  he  carried,  lowered  the  smoulder- 
ing rag  until  it  rested  on  the  pile  below.  It  did  not  go 
out. 

"Safe  enough,  Boston,"  he  remarked.  "But  you  go 
down;  you're  younger." 

Boston  smiled  and  sprang  down  on  the  pile,  from 
which  he  passed  up  a  box.  "Looks  like  tinned  stuff, 
Doc.  Open  it,  and  I'll  look  over  here." 

The  doctor  smashed  the  box  with  his  foot,  and  found, 
as  the  other  had  thought,  that  it  contained  cylindrical 
cans;  but  the  labels  were  faded  with  age.  Opening  one 
with  his  jack-knife,  he  tasted  the  contents.  It  was  a 
mixture  of  meat  and  a  fluid,  called  by  sailors  "soup-and- 
bully,"  and  as  fresh  and  sweet  as  though  canned  the  day 
before. 

"We're  all  right,  Boston,"  he  called  down  the  hatch. 
"Here's  as  good  a  dish  as  I've  tasted  for  months.  Ready 
cooked,  too." 


292  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

Boston  soon  appeared.  ''There  are  some  beef  or 
pork  barrels  over  in  the  wing,"  he  said,  "and  plenty  of 
this  canned  stuff.  I  don't  know  what  good  the  salt  meat 
is.  The  barrels  seem  tight,  but  we  won't  need  to  broach 
one  for  a  while.  There's  a  bag  of  coffee — gone  to  dust, 
and  some  hard  bread  that  isn't  fit  to  eat;  but  this'll  do." 
He  picked  up  the  open  can. 

"Boston,"  said  the  doctor,  "if  those  barrels  contain 
meat,  we'll  find  it  cooked — boiled  in  its  own  brine,  like 
this." 

"Isn't  it  strange,"  said  Boston,  as  he  tasted  the  con- 
tents of  the  can,  "that  this  stuff  should  keep  so  long?" 

"Not  at  all.  It  was  cooked  thoroughly  by  the  heat, 
and  then  frozen.  If  your  barrels  haven't  burst  from 
the  expansion  of  the  brine  under  the  heat  or  cold,  you'll 
find  the  meat  just  as  good." 

"But  rather  salty,  if  I'm  a  judge  of  salt-horse.  Now, 
where's  the  sail-locker?  We  want  a  sail  on  that  fore- 
mast. It  must  be  forward." 

In  the  forecastle  they  found  sailor's  chests  and  cloth- 
ing in  all  stages  of  ruin,  but  none  of  the  spare  sails  that 
ships  carry.  In  the  boatswain's  locker,  in  one  corner 
of  the  forecastle,  however,  they  found  some  iron- 
strapped  blocks  in  fairly  good  condition,  which  Boston 
noted.  Then  they  opened  the  main-hatch,  and  discov- 
ered a  mixed  pile  of  boxes,  some  showing  protruding 
necks  of  large  bottles,  or  carboys,  others  nothing  but 
the  circular  opening.  Here  and  there  in  the  tangled  heap 
were  sections  of  canvas  sails — rolled  and  unrolled,  but 
all  yellow  and  worthless.  They  closed  the  hatch  and 
returned  to  the  cabin,  where  they  could  converse. 

"They  stowed  their  spare  canvas  in  the  'tween-deck 
on  top  of  the  cargo,"  said  Boston;  "and  the  carboys — " 

"And  the  carboys  burst  from  the  heat  and  ruined  the 


THE  DERELICT  NEPTUNE  293 

sails, "  broke  in  the  doctor.  "But  another  question  is, 
what  became  of  that  acid?" 

"If  it's  not  in  the  'tween-deck  yet,  it  must  be  in  the 
hold — leaked  through  the  hatches." 

"I  hope  it  hasn't  reached  the  iron  in  the  hull,  Boston, 
my  boy.  It  takes  a  long  time  for  cold  acids  to  act  on 
iron  after  the  first  oxidation,  but  in  fifty  years  mixed 
nitric  and  sulphuric  will  do  lots  of  work." 

"No  fear,  Doc;  It  had  done  its  work  when  you  were 
in  your  cradle.  What  '11  we  do  for  canvas?  We  must 
get  this  craft  before  the  wind.  How'll  the  carpet  do?" 
Boston  lifted  the  edge,  and  tried  the  fabric  in  his  fingers. 
"It  '11  go,"  he  said;  "we'll  double  it.  I'll  hunt  for  a 
palm-and-needle  and  some  twine."  These  articles  he 
found  in  the  mate's  room.  "The  twine's  no  better  than 
yarn,"  said  he,  "but  we'll  use  four  parts." 

Together  they  doubled  the  carpet  diagonally*  and  with 
long  stitches  joined  the  edges.  Then  Boston  sewed  into 
each  corner  a  thimble — an  iron  ring — and  they  had  a 
triangular  sail  of  about  twelve  feet  hoist.  "It  hasn't 
been  exposed  to  the  action  of  the  air  like  the  ropes  in 
the  locker  forward,"  said  Boston,  as  he  arose  and  took 
off  the  palm;  "and  perhaps  it  '11  last  till  she  pays  off. 
Then  we  can  steer.  You  get  the  big  pulley-blocks  from 
the  locker,  Doc,  and  I'll  get  the  rope  from  the  boat. 
It's  lucky  I  thought  to  bring  it;  I  expected  to  lift  things 
out  of  the  hold  with  it." 

At  the  risk  of  his  life  Boston  obtained  the  coil  from 
the  boat,  while  the  doctor  brought  the  blocks.  Then, 
together,  they  rove  off  a  tackle.  With  the  handles  of 
their  pistols  they  knocked  bunk-boards  to  pieces  and 
saved  the  nails;  then  Boston  climbed  the  foremast,  as 
a  painter  climbs  a  steeple — by  nailing  successive  billets 
of  wood  above  his  head  for  steps.  Next  he  hauled  up 
and  secured  the  tackle  to  the  forward  side  of  the  mast, 


294  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

with  which  they  pulled  up  the  upper  corner  of  their  sail, 
after  lashing  the  lower  corners  to  the  windlass  and  fife- 
rail. 

It  stood  the  pressure,  and  the  hulk  paid  slowly  off  and 
gathered  headway.  Boston  took  the  wheel  and  steadied 
her  at  northwest  by  west — dead  before  the  wind — while 
the  doctor,  at  his  request,  brought  the  open  can  of  soup 
and  lubricated  the  wheel-screw  with  the  only  substitute 
for  oil  at  their  command;  for  the  screw  worked  hard 
with  the  rust  of  fifty  years. 

Their  improvised  sail,  pressed  steadily  on  but  one 
side,  had  held  together,  but  now,  with  the  first  flap  as 
the  gale  caught  it  from  another  direction,  appeared1  a 
rent ;  with  the  next  flap  the  rag  went  to  pieces. 

"Let  her  go!"  sang  out  Boston  gleefully;  "we  can 
steer  now.  Come  here,  Doc,  and  learn  to  steer." 

The  doctor  came;  and  when  he  left  that  wheel,  three 
days  later,  he  had  learned.  For  the  wind  had  blown 
a  continuous  gale  the  whole  of  this  time,  which,  with 
the  ugly  sea  raised  as  the  ship  left  the  lee  of  the  land, 
necessitated  the  presence  of  both  men  at  the  helm.  Only 
occasionally  was  there  a  lull  during  which  one  of  them 
could  rush  below  and  return  with  a  can  of  soup.  Dur- 
ing one  of  these  lulls  Boston  had  examined  the  boat, 
towing  half  out  of  water,  and  concluded  that  a  short 
painter  was  best  with  a  water-logged  boat,  had  rein- 
forced it  with  a  few  turns  of  his  rope  from  forward. 
In  the  three  days  they  had  sighted  no  craft  except  such 
as  their  own — helpless — hove-to  or  scudding. 

Boston  had  judged  rightly  in  regard  to  the  wind.  It 
had  hauled  slowly  to  the  southward,  allowing  him  to 
make  the  course  he  wished — through  the  Bahama  and 
up  the  Florida  Channel  with  the  wind  over  the  stern. 
During  the  day  he  could  guide  himself  by  landmarks, 
but  at  night,  with  a  darkened  binnacle,  he  could  only 


THE  DERELICT  NEPTUNE  295 

steer  blindly  on  with  the  wind  at  his  back.  The  storm 
centre,  at  first  to  the  south  of  Cuba,  had  made  a  wide 
circle,  concentric  with  the  curving  course  of  the  ship,  and 
when  the  latter  had  reached  the  upper  end  of  the  Flor- 
ida channel,  had  spurted  ahead  and  whirled  out  to  sea 
across  her  bows.  It  was  then  that  the  undiminished 
gale,  blowing  nearly  west,  had  caused  Boston,  in  despair, 
to  throw  the  wheel  down  and  bring  the  ship  into  the 
trough  of  the  sea — to  drift.  Then  the  two  wet,  ex- 
hausted, hollow-eyed  men  slept  the  sleep  that  none  but 
sailors  and  soldiers  know;  and  when  they  awakened, 
twelve  hours  later,  stiff  and  sore,  it  was  to  look  out  on 
a  calm,  starlit  evening,  with  an  eastern  moon  silvering 
the  surface  of  the  long,  northbound  rollers,  and  show- 
ing in  sharp  relief  a  dark  horizon,  on  which  there  was 
no  sign  of  land  or  sail. 

They  satisfied  their  hunger;  then  Boston,  with  a  rusty 
iron  pot  from  the  galley,  to  which  he  fastened  the  end 
of  his  rope,  dipped  up  some  of  the  water  from  over  the 
side.  It  was  warm  to  the  touch,  and,  aware  that  they 
were  in  the  Gulf  Stream,  they  crawled  under  the  musty 
bedding  in  the  cabin  berths  and  slept  through  the  night. 
In  the  morning  there  was  no  promise  of  the  easterly 
wind  that  Boston  hoped  would  come  to  blow  them  to 
port,  and  they  secured  their  boat  —  reeving  off  davit- 
tackles,  and  with  the  plug  out,  pulling  it  up,  one  end  at 
a  time,  while  the  water  drained  out  through  the  hole  in 
the  bottom. 

"Now,  Boston,"  said  the  doctor,  uhere  we  are,  as 
you  say,  on  the  outer  edge  of  the  Gulf  Stream,  drifting 
out  into  the  broad  Atlantic  at  the  rate  of  four  miles  an 
hour.  We've  got  to  make  the  best  of  it  until  something 
comes  along;  so  you  hunt  through  that  store-room  and 
see  what  else  there  is  to  eat,  and  I'll  examine  the  cargo. 
I  want  to  know  where  that  acid  went." 


296  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

They  opened  all  the  hatches,  and  while  Boston  de- 
scended to  the  lazarette,  the  doctor,  with  his  trousers 
rolled  up,  climbed  down  the  notched  steps  in  a  stanchion. 
In  a  short  time  he  came  up  with  a  yellow  substance  in 
his  hand,  which  he  washed  thoroughly  with  fresh  water 
in  Boston's  improvised  draw-bucket,  and  placed  in 
the  sun  to  dry.  Then  he  returned  to  the  'tween-deck. 
After  a  while,  Boston,  rumaging  the  lazarette,  heard 
him  calling  through  the  bulkhead,  and  joined  him. 

"Look  here,  Boston,"  said  the  doctor;  "I've  cleared 
away  the  muck  over  this  hatch.  It's  'corked,'  as  you 
sailormen  call  it.  Help  me  get  it  up." 

They  dug  the  compacted  oakum  from  the  seams  with 
their  knives,  and  by  iron  rings  in  each  corner,  now  eaten 
with  rust  to  almost  the  thinness  of  wire,  they  lifted  the 
hatch.  Below  was  a  filthy-looking  layer  of  whitish  sub- 
stance, protruding  from  which  were  charred,  half- 
burned  staves.  First  they  repeated  the  experiment  with 
the  smouldering  rag,  and  finding  that  it  burned,  as  be- 
fore, they  descended.  The  whittish  substance  was  hard 
enough  to  bear  their  weight,  and  they  looked  around. 
Overhead,  hung  to  the  under  side  of  the  deck  and  ex- 
tending the  length  of  the  hold,  were  wooden  tanks, 
charred,  and  in  some  places  burned  through. 

"She  must  have  been  built  for  a  passenger  or  troop 
ship,"  said  Boston.  "Those  tanks  would  water  a  regi- 
ment." 

"Boston,"  answered  the  doctor,  irrelevantly,  "will 
you  climb  up  and  bring  down  an  oar  from  the  boat? 
Carry  it  down — don't  throw  it,  my  boy."  Boston 
obliged  him,  and  the  doctor,  picking  his  way  forward, 
then  aft,  struck  each  tank  with  the  oar.  "Empty — all 
of  them,"  he  said. 

He  dug  out  with  his  knife  a  piece  of  the  whitish  sub- 


THE  DERELICT  NEPTUNE  297 

stance  under  foot,  and  examined  it  closely  in  the  light 
from  the  hatch. 

"Boston,"  he  said,  impressivly,  "this  ship  was  loaded 
with  lime,  tallow,  and  acids — acids  above,  lime  and  tal- 
low down  here.  This  stuff  is  neither;  it  is  lime-soap. 
And,  moreover,  it  had  not  been  touched  by  acids."  The 
doctor's  ruddy  face  was  ashen. 

"Well?"  asked  Boston. 

"Lime  soap  is  formed  by  the  cauticizing  action  of  lime 
on  tallow  in  the  presence  of  water  and  heat.  It  is  easy 
to  understand  this  fire.  One  of  those  tanks  leaked  and 
dribbled  down  on  the  cargo,  attacking  the  lime — which 
was  stowed  underneath,  as  all  these  staves  we  see  on  top 
are  from  tallow-kids.  The  heat  generated  by  the  slak- 
ing lime  set  fire  to  the  barrels  in  contact,  which  in  turn 
set  fire  to  others,  and  they  burned  until  the  air 
was  exhausted,  and  then  went  out.  See,  they  are  but 
partly  consumed.  There  was  intense  heat  in  this  hold, 
and  expansion  of  the  water  in  all  the  tanks.  Are  tanks 
at  sea  filled  to  the  top?" 

"Chock  full,  and  a  cap  screwed  down  on  the  upper 
end  of  the  pipes." 

"As  I  thought.  The  expanding  water  burst  every 
tank  in  the  hold,  and  the  cargo  was  deluged  with  water, 
which  attacked  every  lime  barrel  in  the  bottom  layer, 
at  least.  Result — the  bursting  of  those  barrels  from 
the  ebullition  of  slaking  lime,  the  melting  of  the  tallow 
— which  could  not  burn  long  in  the  closed-up-space — 
and  the  mixing  of  it  in  the  interstices  of  the  lime  barrels 
with  water  and  lime — a  boiling  hot  mess.  What  hap- 
pens under  such  conditions?" 

"Give  it  up,"  said  Boston,  laconically. 

"Lime  soap  is  formed,  which  rises,  and  the  water 
beneath  is  in  time  all  taken  up  by  the  lime." 

"But  what  of  it?"  interrupted  the  other. 


298  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

"Wait.  I  see  that  this  hold  and  the  'tween-deck  are 
lined  with  wood.  Is  that  customary  in  iron  ships?" 

"Not  now.  It  used  to  be  a  notion  that  an  iron  skin 
damaged  the  cargo;  so  the  first  iron 'ships  were  ceiled 
with  wood." 

"Are  there  any  drains  in  the  'tween-deck  to  let  water 
out,  in  case  it  gets  into  that  deck  from  above — a  sea, 
for  instance?" 

"Yes,  always;  three  or  four  scupper-holes  each  side 
amidships.  They  lead  the  water  into  the  bilges,  where 
the  pumps  can  reach  it." 

"I  found  up  there,"  continued  the  doctor,  "a  large 
piece  of  wood,  badly  charred  by  acid  for  half  its  length, 
charred  to  a  lesser  degree  for  the  rest.  It  was  oval 
in  cross  section,  and  the  largest  end  was  charred  most." 

"Scupper  plug.  I  suppose  they  plugged  the  'tween- 
deck  scuppers  to  keep  any  water  they  might  ship  out  of 
the  bilges  and  away  from  the  lime." 

"Yes,  and  those  plugs  remained  in  place  for  days,  if 
not  weeks  or  months,  after  the  carboys  burst,  as  indi- 
cated by  the  greater  charring  of  the  larger  end  of  the 
plug.  I  burrowed  under  the  debris,  and  found  the  hole 
which  that  plug  fitted.  It  was  worked  loose,  or  knocked 
out  of  the  hole  by  some  internal  movement  of  the  broken 
carboys,  perhaps.  At  any  rate,  it  came  out,  after  re- 
maining in  place  long  enough  for  the  acids  to  become 
thoroughly  mixed  and  for  the  hull  to  cool  down.  She 
was  in  the  ice,  remember.  Boston,  the  mixed  acid  went 
down  that  hole,  or  others  like  it.  Where  is  it  now?" 

"I  suppose,"  said  Boston,  thoughtfully,  "that  it 
soaked  up  into  the  hold,  through  the  skin." 

"Exactly.  The  skin  is  calked  with  oakum,  is  it  not?" 
Boston  nodded. 

"That  oakum  would  contract  with  the  charring  ac- 
tion, as  did  the  oakum  in  the  hatch,  and  every  drop  of 


THE  DERELICT  NEPTUNE  299 

that  acid — ten  thousand  gallons,  as  I  have  figured — has 
filtered  up  into  the  hold,  with  the  exception  of  what  re- 
mained between  the  frames  under  the  skin.  Have  you 
ever  studied  organic  chemistry?" 

"Slightly." 

"Then  you  can  follow  me.  When  tallow  is  saponi- 
fied there  is  formed,  from  the  palmitin,  stearin,  and 
olein  contained,  with  the  cauticizing  agent — in  this  case, 
lime — a  soap.  But  there  are  two  ends  to  every  equation, 
and  at  the  bottom  of  this  immense  soap  vat,  held  in  so*- 
lution  by  the  water,  which  would  afterwards  be  taken 
up  by  the  surplus  lime,  was  the  other  end  of  this  equa- 
tion; and  as  the  yield  from  tallow  of  this  other  product 
is  about  thirty  per  cent.,  and  as  we  start  with  eight  thou- 
sand fifty-pound  kids — four  hundred  thousand  pounds — 
all  of  which  has  disappeared,  we  know  that,  sticking  to 
the  skin  and  sides  of  the  barrels  down  here,  is — or  was 
once  —  one  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  pounds,  or 
sixty  tons,  of  the  other  end  of  the  equation — glycerine  I" 

uDo  you  mean,  Doc,"  asked  Boston,  with  a  startled 
look,  "that— " 

"I  mean,"  said  the  doctor,  emphatically,  "that  the 
first  thing  the  acids — mixed  in  the  'tween-deck  to  just 
about  the  right  proportions,  mind  you — would  attack, 
on  oozing  through  the  skin,  would  be  this  glycerine ;  and 
the  certain  product  of  this  union  under  intense  cold — 
this  hull  was  frozen  in  the  ice,  remember — would  be 
nitro-glycerine ;  and,  as  the  yield  of  the  explosive  is  two 
hundred  and  twenty  per  cent,  of  the  glycerine,  we  can 
be  morally  sure  that  in  the  bottom  of  this  hold,  each 
minute  globule  of  it  held  firmly  in  a  hard  matrix  of  sul- 
phate or  nitrate  of  calcium — which  would  be  formed 
next  when  the  acids  met  the  hydrates  and  carbonates 
of  lime — is  over  one  hundred  and  thirty  tons  of  nitro- 
glycerine, all  the  more  explosive  from  not  being  washed 


300  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

of  free  acids.  Come  up  on  deck.  I'll  show  you  some- 
thing else." 

Limp  and  nerveless,  Boston  followed  the  doctor. 
This  question  was  beyond  his  seamanship. 

The  doctor  brought  the  yellow  substance — now  well 
dried.  "I  found  plenty  of  this  in  the  'tween-deck,"  he 
said;  "and  I  should  judge  they  used  it  to  pack  between 
the  carboy  boxes.  It  was  once  cotton-batting.  It  is 
now,  since  I  have  washed  it,  a  very  good  sample  of 
gun-cotton.  Get  me  a  hammer — crowbar — something 
hard." 

Boston  brought  a  marline-spike  from  the  locker,  and 
the  doctor,  tearing  off  a  small  piece  of  the  substance  and 
placing  it  on  the  iron  barrel  of  a  gipsy-winch,  gave  it  a 
hard  blow  with  the  marline  spike,  which  was  nearly  torn 
from  his  hand  by  the  explosion  that  followed. 

"We  have  in  the  'tween-deck,"  said  the  doctor,  as  he 
turned,  "about  twice  as  many  pounds  of  this  stuff  as  they 
used  to  pack  the  carboys  with;  and,  like  the  nitro-gly- 
cerine,  is  the  more  easily  exploded  from  the  impurities  and 
free  acids.  I  washed  this  for  safe  handling.  Bos- 
ton, we  are  adrift  on  a  floating  bomb  that  would  pulverize 
the  rock  of  Gibraltar!" 

"But,  doctor,"  asked  Boston,  as  he  leaned  against  the 
rail  for  support,  "wouldn't  there  be  evolution  of  heat 
from  the  action  of  the  acids  on  the  lime — enough  to  ex- 
plode the  nitro-glycerine  just  formed?" 

"The  best  proof  that  it  did  not  explode  is  the  fact 
that  this  hull  still  floats.  The  action  was  too  slow,  and 
it  was  very  cold  down  there.  But  I  can't  yet  account 
for  the  acids  left  in  the  bilges.  What  have  they  been 
doing  all  these  fifty  years?" 

Boston  found  a  sounding-rod  in  the  locker,  which  he 
scraped  bright  with  his  knife,  then,  unlaying  a  strand 
of  the  rope  for  a  line,  sounded  the  pump-well.  The 


THE  DERELICT  NEPTUNE  301 

rod  came  up  dry,  but  with  a  slight  discoloration  on  the 
lower  end,  which  Boston  showed  to  the  doctor. 

"The  acids  have  expended  themselves  on  the  iron 
frames  and  plates.  How  thick  are  they?" 

"Plates,  about  five-eighths  of  an  inch;  frames,  like 
railroad  iron." 

"This  hull  is  a  shell!  We  won't  get  much  salvage. 
Get  up  some  kind  of  distress  signal,  Boston."  Some- 
how the  doctor  was  now  the  master-spirit. 

A  flag  was  nailed  to  the  mast,  union  down,  to  be 
blown  to  pieces  with  the  first  breeze;  then  another,  and 
another,  until  the  flag  locker  was  exhausted.  Next  they 
hung  out,  piece  after  piece,  all  they  could  spare  of  the 
rotten  bedding,  until  that  too  was  exhausted.  Then 
they  found,  in  a  locker  of  their  boat,  a  flag  of  Free 
Cuba,  which  they  decided  not  to  waste,  but  to  hang  out 
only  when  a  sail  appeared. 

But  no  sail  appeared,  and  the  craft,  buffeted  by  gales 
and  seas,  drifted  eastward,  while  the  days  became  weeks, 
and  the  weeks  became  months.  Twice  she  entered  the 
Sargasso  Sea — the  graveyard  of  derelicts — to  be  blown 
out  by  friendly  gales  and  resume  her  travels.  Occa- 
sional rains  replenished  the  stock  of  fresh  water,  but  the 
food  they  found  at  first,  with  the  exception  of  some  cans 
of  fruit,  was  all  that  came  to  light;  for  the  salt  meat 
was  leathery,  and  crumbled  to  a  salty  dust  on  exposure 
to  the  air.  After  a  while  their  stomachs  revolted  at  the 
diet  of  cold  soup,  and  they  ate  only  when  hunger  com- 
pelled them. 

At  first  they  had  stood  watch-and-watch,  but  the  lonely 
horror  of  the  long  night  vigils  in  the  constant  apprehen- 
sion of  instant  death  had  affected  them  alike,  and  they 
gave  it  up,  sleeping  and  watching  together.  They  had 
taken  care  of  their  boat  and  provisioned  it,  ready  to 
lower  and  pull  into  the  track  of  any  craft  that  might 


302  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

approach.  But  it  was  four  months  from  the  beginning 
of  this  strange  voyage  when  the  two  men,  gaunt  and 
hungry — with  ruined  digestions  and  shattered  nerves — 
saw,  with  joy  which  may  be  imagined,  the  first  land  and 
the  first  sail  that  gladdened  their  eyes  after  the  storm  in 
the  Florida  Channel. 

A  fierce  gale  from  the  southwest  had  been  driving 
them,  broadside  on,  in  the  trough  of  the  sea,  for  the 
whole  of  the  preceding  day  and  night;  and  the  land 
they  now  saw  appeared  to  them  a  dark,  ragged  line  of 
blue,  early  in  the  morning.  Boston  could  only  surmise 
that  it  was  the  coast  of  Portugal  or  Spain.  The  sail — 
which  lay  between  them  and  the  land,  about  three  miles 
to  leeward — proved  to  be  the  try-sail  of  a  black  craft, 
hove-to,  with  bows  nearly  towards  them. 

Boston  climbed  the  foremast  with  their  only  flag  and 
secured  it;  then,  from  the  high  poop-deck,  they  watched 
the  other  craft,  plunging  and  wallowing  in  the  immense 
Atlantic  combers,  often  raising  her  forefoot  into  plain 
view,  again  descending  with  a  dive  that  hid  the  whole 
forward  half  in  a  white  cloud  of  spume. 

"If  she  was  a  steamer  I'd  call  her  a  cruiser,"  said 
Boston;  uone  of  England's  black  ones,  with  a  storm- 
sail  on  her  military  mainmast.  She  has  a  ram  bow,  and 
— yes,  sponsors  and  guns.  That's  what  she  is,  with  her 
funnels  and  bridge  carried  away." 

"Isn't  she  right  in  our  track,  Boston?"  asked  the  doc- 
tor, excitedly.  "Hadn't  she  better  get  out  of  our  way?" 

"She's  got  steam  up — a  full  head;  sec  the  escape-jet? 
She  isn't  helpless.  If  she  don't  launch  a  boat,  we'll  take 
to  ours  and  board  her." 

The  distance  lessened  rapidly — the  cruiser  plunging 
up  and  down  in  the  same  spot,  the  derelict  heaving  to 
leeward  in  great,  swinging  leaps,  as  the  successive  seas 
caught  her,  each  one  leaving  her  half  a  length  farther 


THE  DERELICT  NEPTUNE  303 

on.      Soon   they   could   make    out   the    figures    of   men. 

"Take  us  off,"  screamed  the  doctor,  waving  his  arms, 
uand  get  out  of  our  way!" 

"We'll  clear  her,"  said  Boston;  "see,  she's  started  her 
engine." 

As  they  drifted  down  on  the  weather-side  of  the 
cruiser  they  shouted  repeatedly  words  of  supplication 
and  warning.  They  were  answered  by  a  solid  shot  from 
a  secondary  gun,  which  flew  over  their  heads.  At  the 
same  time,  the  ensign  of  Spain  was  run  up  on  the  flag- 
staff. 

"They're  Spanish,  Boston.  They're  firing  on  us.  In- 
to that  boat  with  you!  If  a  shot  hits  our  cargo,  we 
won't  know  what  struck  us." 

They  sprang  into  the  boat,  which  luckily  hung  on  the 
lee  side,  and  cleared  the  falls — fastened  and  coiled  in 
the  bow  and  stern.  Often  during  their  long  voyage 
they  had  rehearsed  the  launching  of  the  boat  in  a  seaway 
— an  operation  requiring  quick  and  concerted  action. 

"Ready,  Doc?"  sang  out  Boston.  "One,  two,  three 
— let  go!"  The  falls  overhauled  with  a  whir,  and  the 
falling  boat,  striking  an  uprising  sea  with  a  smack,  sank 
with  it.  When  it  raised  they  unhooked  the  tackle  blocks, 
and  pushed  off  with  the  oars  just  as  a  second  shot 
hummed  over  their  heads. 

"Pull,  Boston;  pull  hard — straight  to  windward!" 
cried  the  doctor. 

The  tight  whaleboat  shipped  no  water,  and  though 
they  were  pulling  in  the  teeth  of  a  furious  gale,  the  hulk 
was  drifting  away  from  them,  so,  in  a  short  time,  they 
were  separated  from  their  late  home  by  a  full  quarter- 
mile  of  angry  sea.  The  cruiser  had  forged  ahead  in 
plain  view,  and,  as  they  looked,  took  in  the  try-sail. 

"She's  going  to  wear,"  said  Boston.  "See,  she's  pay- 
ing off." 


304  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

"I  don't  know  what  'wearing'  means,  Boston,"  panted 
the  doctor,  "but  I  know  the  Spanish  nature.  She's  go- 
ing to  ram  that  hundred  and  thirty  tons  of  nitro.  Don't 
stop.  Pull  away.  Hold  on,  there;  hold  on,  you  fools!" 
he  shouted.  "That's  a  torpedo;  keep  away  from  her!" 

Forgetting  his  own  injunction  to  "pull  away,"  the 
doctor  stood  up,  waving  his  oar  frantically,  and  Boston 
assisted.  But  if  their  shouts  and  gestures  were  under- 
stood aboard  the  cruiser,  they  were  ignored.  She  slowly 
turned  in  a  wide  curve  and  headed  straight  for  the 
Neptune  which  had  drifted  to  leeward  of  her. 

What  was  in  the  minds  of  the  officers  on  that  cruiser's 
deck  will  never  be  known.  Cruisers  of  all  nations  hold 
roving  commissions  in  regard  to  derelicts,  and  it  is  fit- 
ting and  proper  for  one  of  them  to  gently  prod  a  "va- 
grant of  the  sea"  with  the  steel  prow  and  send  her  below 
to  trouble  no  more.  But  it  may  be  that  the  sight  of 
the  Cuban  flag,  floating  defiantly  in  the  gale,  had  some- 
thing to  do  with  the  full  speed  at  which  the  Spanish 
ship  approached.  When  but  half  a  length  separated  the 
two  craft,  a  heavy  sea  lifted  the  bow  of  the  cruiser  high 
in  air;  then  it  sank,  and  the  sharp  steel  ram  came  down 
like  a  butcher's  cleaver  on  the  side  of  the  derelict. 

A  great  semicircular  wall  of  red  shut  out  the  gray  of 
the  sea  and  sky  to  leeward,  and  for  an  instant  the  horri- 
fied men  in  the  boat  saw — as  people  see  by  a  lightning 
flash — dark  lines  radiating  from  the  centre  of  this  red  wall, 
and  near  this  centre  poised  on  end  in  mid-air,  with  deck 
and  sponsons  still  intact,  a  bowless,  bottomless  remnant 
of  the  cruiser.  Then,  and  before  the  remnant  sank  into 
the  vortex  beneath,  the  spectacle  went  out  in  the  darkness  of 
unconsciousness;  for  a  report,  as  of  concentrated  thunder, 
struck  them  down.  A  great  wave  had  left  the  crater- 
like  depression  in  the  sea,  which  threw  the  boat  on  end, 
and  with  the  inward  rush  of  surrounding  water  rose  a 


THE  DERELICT  NEPTUNE  305 

mighty  gray  cone,  which  then  subsided  to  a  hollow,  while 
another  wave  followed  the  first.  Again  and  again  this 
gray  pillar  rose  and  fell,  each  subsidence  marked  by  the 
sending  forth  of  a  wave.  And  long  before  these  con- 
centric waves  had  lost  themselves  in  the  battle  with  the 
storm-driven  combers  from  the  ocean,  the  half-filled  boat, 
with  her  unconscious  passengers,  had  drifted  over  the 
spot  where  lay  the  shattered  remnant,  which,  with  the 
splintered  fragments  of  wood  and  iron  strewn  on  the 
surface  and  bottom  of  the  sea  for  a  mile  around,  and  the 
lessening  cloud  of  dust  in  the  air,  was  all  that  was  left 
of  the  derelict  Neptune  and  one  of  the  finest  cruisers  in 
the  Spanish  navy. 

A  few  days  later,  two  exhausted,  half-starved  men 
pulled  a  whaleboat  up  to  the  steps  of  the  wharf  at  Cadiz, 
where  they  told  some  lies  and  sold  their  boat.  Six 
months  after,  these  two  men,  sitting  at  a  camp-fire  of  the 
Cuban  army,  read  from  a  discolored  newspaper,  brought 
ashore  with  the  last  supplies,  the  following: 

"By  cable  to  the   'Herald.' 

"CADIZ,  March  13,  1895. — Anxiety  for  the  safety  of  the  Reina  Regente 
has  grown  rapidly  to-day,  and  this  evening  it  is  feared,  generally,  that 
she  went  down  with  her  four  hundred  and  twenty  souls  in  the  storm 
which  swept  the  southern  coast  on  Sunday  night  and  Monday  morning. 
Despatches  from  Gibraltar  say  that  pieces  of  a  boat  and  several  sema- 
phore flags  belonging  to  the  cruiser  came  ashore  at  Ceuta  and  Tarifa  this 
afternoon." 


THE  TERRIBLE  SOLOMONS* 
From  "South  Sea  Tales,"  BY  JACK  LONDON 

THERE  is  no  gainsaying  that  the  Solomons  are  a 
hard-bitten  bunch  of  islands.  On  the  other  hand, 
there  are  worse  places  in  the  world.  But  to  the 
new  chum  who  has  no  constitutional  understanding  of 
men  and  life  in  the  rough,  the  Solomons  may  indeed  prove 
terrible. 

It  is  true  that  fever  and  dysentery  are  perpetually  on 
the  walk-about,  that  loathsome  skin  diseases  abound,  that 
the  air  is  saturated  with  a  poison  that  bites  into  every  pore, 
cut,  or  abrasion  and  plants  malignant  ulcers,  and  that 
many  strong  men  who  escape  dying  there  return  as 
wrecks  to  their  own  countries.  It  is  also  true  that  the 
natives  of  the  Solomons  are  a  wild  lot,  with  a  hearty  ap- 
petite for  human  flesh  and  a  fad  for  collecting  human 
heads.  Their  highest  instinct  of  sportsmanship  is  to 
catch  a  man  with  his  back  turned  and  to  smite  him  a  cun- 
ning blow  with  a  tomahawk  that  severs  the  spinal  column 
at  the  base  of  the  brain.  It  is  equally  true  that  on  some 
islands,  such  as  Malaita,  the  profit  and  loss  account  of 
social  intercourse  is  calculated  in  homicides.  Heads  are 
a  medium  of  exchange,  and  white  heads  are  extremely 
valuable.  Very  often  a  dozen  villages  make  a  jack-pot, 
which  they  fatten  moon  by  moon,  against  the  time 
when  some  brave  warrior  presents  a  white  man's  head, 
fresh  and  gory,  and  claims  the  pot. 

All  the  foregoing  is  quite  true,  and  yet  there  are  white 
men  who  have  lived  in  the  Solomons  a  score  of  years  and 
who  feel  homesick  when  they  go  away  from  them.  A 


*  Reprinted  by  courtesy  of  the  Macmillan  Co. 

306 


THE  TERRIBLE  SOLOMONS  307 

man  needs  only  to  be  careful — and  lucky — to  live  a  long 
time  in  the  Solomons;  but  he  must  also  be  of  the  right 
sort.  He  must  have  the  hall-mark  of  the  inevitable  white 
man  stamped  upon  his  soul.  He  must  be  inevitable.  He 
must  have  a  certain  grand  carelessness  of  odds,  a  certain 
colossal  self-satisfaction,  and  a  racial  egotism  that  con- 
vinces him  that  one  white  is  better  than  a  thousand  nig- 
gers every  day  in  the  week,  and  that  on  Sunday  he  is  able 
to  clean  out  two  thousand  niggers.  For  such  are  the 
things  that  have  made  the  white  man  inevitable.  Oh, 
and  one  other  thing — the  white  man  who  wishes  to  be 
inevitable,  must  not  merely  despise  the  lesser  breeds  and 
think  a  lot  of  himself;  he  must  also  fail  to  be  too  long 
on  imagination.  He  must  not  understand  too  well  the 
instincts,  customs  and  mental  processes  of  the  blacks,  the 
yellows,  and  the  browns;  for  it  is  not  in  such  fashion 
that  the  white  race  has  tramped  its  royal  road  around 
the  world. 

Bertie  Arkwright  was  not  inevitable.  He  was  too  sen- 
sitive, too  finely  strung,  and  he  possessed  too  much  imag- 
ination. The  world  was  too  much  with  him.  He  pro- 
jected himself  too  quiveringly  into  his  environment. 
Therefore,  the  last  place  in  the  world  for  him  to  come 
was  the  Solomons.  He  did  not  come,  expecting  to  stay. 
A  five-weeks'  stop-over  between  steamers,  he  decided, 
would  satisfy  the  call  of  the  primitive  he  felt  thrumming 
the  strings  of  his  being.  At  least,  so  he  told  the  lady 
tourists  on  the  Makembo,  though  in  different  terms;  and 
they  worshipped  him  as  a  hero,  for  they  were  lady  tour- 
ists and  they  would  know  only  the  safety  of  the  steamer's 
deck  as  she  threaded  her  way  through  the  Solomons. 

There  was  another  man  on  board,  of  whom  the  ladies 
took  no  notice.  He  was  a  little  shriveled  wisp  of  a  man, 
with  a  withered  skin  the  color  of  mahogany.  His  name 
on  the  passenger  list  does  not  matter,  but  his  other  name, 


308  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

Captain  Malu,  was  a  name  for  niggers  to  conjure  with, 
and  to  scare  naughty  pickaninnies  to  righteousness,  from 
New  Hanover  to  the  New  Hebrides.  He  had  farmed 
savages  and  savagery,  and  from  fever  and  hardship,  the 
crack  of  Sniders  and  the  lash  of  the  overseers,  had 
wrested  five  millions  of  money  in  the  form  of  beche-de- 
mer,  sandalwood,  pearl-shell  and  turtle-shell,  ivory  nuts 
and  copra,  grasslands,  trading  stations,  and  plantations. 
Captain  Malu's  little  finger,  which  was  broken,  had  more 
inevitableness  in  it  than  Bertie  Arkwright's  whole  carcass. 
But  then,  the  lady  tourists  had  nothing  by  which  to 
judge  save  appearances,  and  Bertie  certainly  was  a  fine- 
looking  man. 

Bertie  talked  with  Captain  Malu  in  the  smoking-room, 
confiding  to  him  his  intention  of  seeing  life  red  and  bleed- 
ing in  the  Solomons.  Captain  Malu  agreed  that  the  in- 
tention was  ambitious  and  honorable.  It  was  not  until 
several  days  later  that  he  became  interested  in  Bertie, 
when  that  young  adventurer  insisted  on  showing  him  an 
automatic  44-calibre  pistol.  Bertie  explained  the  mech- 
anism and  demonstrated  by  slipping  a  loaded  magazine 
up  the  hollow  butt. 

"It  is  so  simple,"  he  said.  He  shot  the  outer  barrel  back 
along  the  inner  one.  "That  loads  it,  and  cocks  it,  you  see. 
And  then  all  I  have  to  do  is  pull  the  trigger,  eight  times, 
as  fast  as  I  can  quiver  my  finger.  See  that  safety  clutch. 
That's  what  I  like  about  it.  It  is  safe.  It  is  positively 
fool-proof."  He  slipped  out  the  magazine.  "You  see 
how  safe  it  is." 

As  he  held  it  in  his  hand,  the  muzzle  came  in  line  with 
Captain  Malu's  stomach.  Captain  Malu's  blue  eyes 
looked  at  it  unswervingly. 

"Would  you  mind  pointing  it  in  some  other  direction?" 
he  asked. 

"It's  perfectly  safe,"  Bertie  assured  him.    "I  withdrew 


THE  TERRIBLE  SOLOMONS  309 

the  magazine.     It's  not  loaded  now,  you  know.'* 

"A  gun  is  always  loaded." 

"But  this  one  isn't." 

"Turn  it  away  just  the  same." 

Captain  Malu's  voice  was  flat  and  metallic  and  low, 
but  his  eyes  never  left  the  muzzle  until  the  line  of  it  was 
drawn  past  him  and  away  from  him. 

"I'll  bet  a  fiver  it  isn't  loaded,"  Bertie  proposed 
warmly. 

The  other  shook  his  head. 

"Then  I'll  show  you." 

Bertie  started  to  put  the  muzzle  to  his  own  temple 
with  the  evident  intention  of  pulling  the  trigger. 

"Just  a  second,"  Captain  Malu  said  quietly,  reaching 
out  his  hand.  "Let  me  look  at  it." 

He  pointed  it  seaward  and  pulled  the  trigger.  A 
heavy  explosion  followed,  instantaneous  with  the  sharp 
click  of  the  mechanism  that  flipped  a  hot  and  smoking 
cartridge  sidewise  along  the  deck.  Bertie's  jaw  dropped 
in  amazement. 

"I  slipped  the  barrel  back  once,  didn't  I?"  he  ex- 
plained. "It  was  silly  of  me,  I  must  say." 

He  giggled  flabbily,  and  sat  down  in  a  steamer  chair. 
The  blood  had  ebbed  from  his  face,  exposing  dark  circles 
under  his  eyes.  His  hands  were  trembling  and  unable 
to  guide  the  shaking  cigarette  to  his  lips.  The  world 
was  too  much  with  him,  and  he  saw  himself  with  dripping 
brains  prone  upon  the  deck. 

"Really,"  he  said,  "...  really." 

"It's  a  pretty  weapon,"  said  Captain  Malu,  returning 
the  automatic  to  him. 

The  Commissioner  was  on  board  the  Makembo,  re- 
turning from  Sydney,  and  by  his  permission  a  stop  was 
made  at  Ugi  to  land  a  missionary.  And  at  Ugi  lay  the 
ketch  Aria,  Captain  Hansen,  skipper.  Now  the  Aria 


310  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

was  one  of  many  vessels  owned  by  Captain  Malu,  and 
it  was  at  his  suggestion  and  by  his  invitation  that  Bertie 
went  aboard  the  Aria  as  guest  for  a  four-days'  recruiting 
cruise  on  the  coast  of  Malaita.  Thereafter  the  Aria 
would  drop  him  at  Reminge  Plantation  (also  owned  by 
Captain  Malu),  where  Bertie  could  remain  for  a  week, 
and  then  be  sent  over  to  Tulgai,  the  seat  of  government, 
where  he  would  become  the  Commissioner's  guest.  Cap- 
tain Malu  was  responsible  for  two  other  suggestions, 
which  given,  he  disappears  from  this  narrative.  One 
was  to  Captain  Hansen,  the  other  to  Mr.  Harriwell, 
manager  of  Reminge  Plantation.  Both  suggestions  were 
similar  in  tenor,  namely,  to  give  Mr.  Bertram  Arkwright 
an  insight  into  the  rawness  and  redness  of  life  in  the 
Solomons.  Also,  it  is  whispered  that  Captain  Malu 
mentioned  that  a  case  of  Scotch  would  be  coincidental 
with  any  particularly  gorgeous  insight  Mr.  Arkwright 
might  receive. 

"Yes,  Swartz  always  was  too  pig-headed.  You  see, 
he  took  four  of  his  boat's  crew  to  Tulagi  to  be  flogged — 
officially,  you  know — then  started  back  with  them  in  the 
whale-boat.  It  was  pretty  squally,  and  the  boat  cap- 
sized just  outside.  Swartz  was  the  only  one  drowned. 
Of  course  it  was  an  accident." 

"Was  it?  Really?"  Bertie  asked,  only  half-interested, 
staring  hard  at  the  black  man  at  the  wheel. 

Ugi  had  dropped  astern,  and  the  Aria  was  sliding 
along  through  a  summer  sea  toward  the  wooded  ranges 
of  Malaita.  The  helmsman  who  so  attracted  Bertie's 
eyes  sported  a  tenpenny  nail,  stuck  skewerwise  through 
his  nose.  About  his  neck  was  string  of  pants  buttons. 
Thrust  through  holes  in  his  ears  were  a  can-opener,  the 
broken  handle  of  a  tooth-brush,  a  day  pipe,  the  brass 
wheel  of  an  alarm  clock,  and  several  Winchester  rifle 


THE  TERRIBLE  SOLOMONS  311 

cartridges.  On  his  chest,  suspended  from  around  his 
neck  hung  the  half  of  a  china  plate.  Some  forty  similarly 
apparelled  blacks  lay  about  the  deck,  fifteen  of  which 
were  boat's  crew,  the  remainder  being  fresh  labor 
recruits. 

"Of  course  it  was  an  accident,"  spoke  up  the  drla's 
mate,  Jacobs,  a  slender,  dark-eyed  man  who  looked  more 
a  professor  than  a  sailor.  "Johnny  Bedlip  nearly  had 
the  same  kind  of  accident.  He  was  bringing  back  several 
from  a  flogging,  when  they  capsized  him.  But  he  knew 
how  to  swim  as  well  as  they,  and  two  of  them  were 
drowned.  He  used  a  boat-stretcher  and  a  revolver.  Of 
course  it  was  an  accident." 

"Quite  common,  them  accidents,"  remarked  the  skip- 
per. "You  see  that  man  at  the  wheel,  Mr.  Arkwright? 
He's  a  man-eater.  Six  months  ago,  he  and  the  rest  of 
the  boat's  crew  drowned  the  then  captain  of  the  Aria. 
They  did  it  on  deck,  sir,  right  aft  there  by  the  mizzen- 
traveller." 

"The  deck  was  in  a  shocking  state,"  said  the  mate. 

"Do  I  understanad — ?"  Bertie  began. 

"Yes,  just  that,"  said  Captain  Hansen.  "It  was  acci- 
dental drowning." 

"But  on  deck—?" 

"Just  so.  I  don't  mind  telling  you,  in  confidence,  of 
course,  that  they  used  an  axe." 

"This  present  crew  of  yours?" 

Captain  Hansen  nodded. 

"The  other  skipper  always  was  too  careless,"  ex- 
plained the  mate.  "He  but  just  turned  his  back,  when 
they  let  him  have  it." 

"We  haven't  any  show  down  here,"  was  the  skipper's 
complaint.  "The  government  protects  a  nigger  against 
a  white  every  time.  You  can't  shoot  first.  You've  got 
to  give  the  nigger  first  shot,  or  else  the  government  calls 


312  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

it  murder  and  you  go  to  Fiji.  That's  why  there's  so  many 
drowning  accidents." 

"Dinner  was  called,  and  Bertie  and  the  skipper  went 
below,  leaving  the  mate  to  watch  on  deck. 

"Keep  an  eye  out  for  that  black  devil,  Auiki,"  was  the 
skipper's  parting  caution.  "I  haven't  liked  his  looks  for 
several  days." 

"Right  O,"  said  the  mate. 

Dinner  was  part  way  along,  and  the  skipper  was  in 
the  middle  of  his  story  of  the  cutting  out  of  the  Scottish 
Chiefs. 

"Yes,"  he  was  saying,  "she  was  the  finest  vessel  on 
the  coast.  But  when  she  missed  stays,  and  before  ever 
she  hit  the  reef,  the  canoes  started  for  her.  There  were 
five  white  men,  a  crew  of  twenty  Santa  Cruz  boys  and 
Samoans,  and  only  the  super-cargo  escaped.  Besides, 
there  were  sixty  recruits.  They  were  all  kai-kai'd. 
Kaikai? — oh,  I  beg  your  pardon.  I  mean  they  were 
eaten.  Then  there  was  the  James  Edwards,  a  dandy- 
rigged — " 

But  at  that  moment  there  was  a  sharp  oath  from  the 
mate  on  deck  and  a  chorus  of  savage  cries.  A  revolver 
went  off  three  times,  and  then  was  heard  a  loud  splash. 
Captain  Hansen  had  sprung  up  the  companionway  on 
the  instant,  and  Bertie's  eyes  had  been  fascinated  by  a 
glimpse  of  him  drawing  his  revolver  as  he  sprung.  Bertie 
went  up  more  circumspectly,  hesitating  before  he  put 
his  head  above  the  companionway  slide.  But  nothing 
happened.  The  mate  was  shaking  with  excitement,  his 
revolver  in  his  hand.  Once  he  startled,  and  half-jumped 
around,  as  if  danger  threatened  his  back. 

"One  of  the  natives  fell  overboard,"  he  was  saying, 
in  a  queer  tense  voice.  "He  couldn't  swim." 

"Who  was  it?"  the  skipper  demanded. 

"Auiki,"  was  the  answer. 


THE  TERRIBLE  SOLOMONS  313 

"But  I  say,  you  know,  I  heard  shots,"  Bertie  said,  in 
trembling  eagerness,  for  he  scented  adventure,  and  ad- 
venture that  was  happily  over  with. 

The  mate  whirled  upon  him,  snarling: 

"It's  a  damned  lie.  There  ain't  been  a  shot  fired.  The 
nigger  fell  overboard." 

Captain  Hansen  regarded  Bertie  with  unblinking,  lack- 
lustre eyes. 

"I —  I  thought — "  Bertie  was  beginning. 

"Shots?    Did  you  hear  any  shots,  Mr.  Jacobs?" 

"Not  a  shot,"  replied  Mr.  Jacobs. 

The  skipper  looked  at  his  guest  triumphantly,  and 
said: 

"Evidently  an  accident.  Let  us  go  down,  Mr.  Ark- 
wright,  and  finish  dinner." 

Bertie  slept  that  night  in  the  captain's  cabin,  a  tiny 
stateroom  off  the  main-cabin.  The  for'ard  bulkhead  was 
decorated  with  a  stand  of  rifles.  Over  the  bunk  were 
three  more  rifles.  Under  the  bunk  was  a  big  drawer, 
which  when  he  pulled  it  out,  he  found  filled  with  am- 
munition dynamite,  and  several  boxes  of  detonators.  He 
elected  to  take  the  settee  on  the  opposite  side.  Lying 
conspicuously  on  the  small  table,  was  the  Aria's  log. 
Bertie  did  not  know  that  it  had  been  especially  prepared 
for  the  occasion  by  Captain  Malu,  and  he  read  therein 
how  on  September  21,  two  boat's  crew  had  fallen  over- 
board and  been  drowned.  Bertie  read  between  the  lines 
and  knew  better.  He  read  how  the  Aria's  whale-boat 
had  been  bushwacked  at  Stilu  and  had  lost  three  men;  of 
how  the  skipper  discovered  the  cook  stewing  human  flesh 
on  the  galley  fire — flesh  purchased  by  the  boat's  crew 
ashore  in  Fui;  of  how  an  accidental  discharge  of  dyna- 
mite, while  signalling,  had  killed  another  boat's  crew; 
of  night  attacks;  ports  fled  from  between  the  dawns; 
attacks  by  bushmen  in  mangrove  swamps  and  by  fleets  of 


314  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

salt-water  men  in  the  larger  passages.  One  item  that 
occurred  with  monotonous  frequency  was  death  by  dysen- 
tery. He  noticed  with  alarm  that  two  white  men  had  so 
died — guests,  .like  himself  on  the  Aria. 

"I  say,  you  know,"  Bertie  said  next  day  to  Captain 
Hansen.  "I've  been  glancing  through  your  log." 

The  skipper  displayed  quick  vexation  that  the  log  had 
been  left  lying  about. 

"And  all  that  dysentery,  you  know,  that's  all  rot,  just 
like  the  accidental  drownings,"  Bertie  continued.  "What 
does  dysentery  really  stand  for?" 

The  skipper  openly  admired  his  guest's  acumen,  stif- 
fened himself  to  make  indignant  denial,  then  gracefully 
surrendered. 

"You  see,  it's  like  this,  Mr.  Arkwright.  These  islands 
have  got  a  bad  enough  name  as  it  is.  It's  getting  harder 
every  day  to  sign  on  white  men.  Suppose  a  man  is  killed. 
The  company  has  to  pay  through  the  nose  for  another 
man  to  take  the  job.  But  if  the  man  merely  dies  of 
sickness,  it's  all  right.  The  new  chums  don't  mind  dis- 
ease. What  they  draw  the  line  at  is  being  murdered. 
I  thought  the  skipper  of  the  Aria  had  died  of  dysentery 
when  I  took  his  billet.  Then  it  was  too  late.  I'd  signed 
the  contract." 

"Besides,"  said  Mr.  Jacobs,  "there's  altogether  too 
many  accidental  drownings  anyway.  It  don't  look  right. 
It's  the  fault  of  the  government.  A  white  man  hasn't 
a  chance  to  defend  himself  from  the  niggers." 

"Yes,  look  at  the  Princess  and  that  Yankee  mate,"  the 
skipper  took  up  the  tale.  "She  carried  five  white  men 
besides  a  government  agent.  The  captain,  the  agent, 
and  the  supercargo  were  ashore  in  the  two  boats.  They 
were  killed  to  the  last  man.  The  mate  and  bosun,  with 
about  fifteen  of  the  crew — Samoans  and  Tongans — were 
on  board.  A  crowd  of  niggers  came  off  from  the  shore. 


THE  TERRIBLE  SOLOMONS  315 

First  thing  the  mate  knew,  the  bosun  and  the  crew  were 
killed  in  the  first  rush.  The  mate  grabbed  three  car- 
tridge-belts and  two  Winchesters  and  skinned  up  to  the 
cross-trees.  He  was  the  sole  survivor,  and  you  can't 
blame  him  for  being  mad.  He  pumped  one  rifle  till  it 
got  so  hot  he  couldn't  hold  it,  then  he  pumped  the  other. 
The  deck  was  black  with  niggers.  He  cleaned  them  out. 
He  dropped  them  as  they  went  over  the  rail,  and  he 
dropped  them  as  fast  as  they  picked  up  their  paddles. 
Then  they  jumped  into  the  water  and  started  to  swim 
for  it,  and,  being  mad,  he  got  half  a  dozen  more.  And 
what  did  he  get  for  it?" 

"Seven  years  in  Fiji,"  snapped  the  mate. 

"The  government  said  he  wasn't  justified  in  shoot- 
ing after  they'd  taken  to  the  water,"  the  skipper  explained. 

"And  that's  why  they  die  of  dysentery  nowadays,"  the 
mate  added. 

"Just  fancy,"  said  Bertie,  as  he  felt  a  longing  for  the 
cruise  to  be  over. 

Later  on  in  the  day  he  interviewed  the  black  who  had 
been  pointed  out  to  him  as  a  cannibal.  This  fellow's 
name  was  Sumasai.  He  had  spent  three  years  on  a 
Queensland  plantation.  He  had  been  to  Samoa,  and  Fiji, 
and  Sydney;  and  as  a  boat's  crew  had  been  on  recruiting 
schooners  through  New  Britain,  New  Ireland,  New 
Guinea,  and  the  Admiralties.  Also,  he  was  a  wag,  and 
he  had  taken  a  line  on  his  skipper's  conduct.  Yes,  he  had 
eaten  many  men.  How  many?  He  could  not  remember 
the  tally.  Yes,  white  men,  too;  they  were  very  good, 
unless  they  were  sick.  He  had  once  eaten  a  sick  one. 

"My  word!"  he  cried,  at  the  recollection.  "Me  sick 
plenty  along  him.  My  belly  walk  about  too  much." 

Bertie  shuddered,  and  asked  about  heads.  Yes,  Sum- 
asai had  several  hidden  ashore,  in  good  condition,  sun- 
dried,  and  smoke-cured.  One  was  of  the  captain  of 


316  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

a  schooner.  It  had  long  whiskers.  He  would  sell  it 
for  two  quid.  Black  men's  heads  he  would  sell  for  one 
quid.  He  had  some  pickaninny  heads,  in  poor  condition, 
that  he  would  let  go  for  ten  bob. 

Five  minutes  afterward,  Bertie  found  himself  sitting 
on  the  companionway-slide  alongside  a  black  with  a  hor- 
rible skin  disease.  He  sheered  off,  and  on  inquiry  was  told 
that  it  was  leprosy.  He  hurried  below  and  washed  him- 
self with  antiseptic  soap.  He  took  many  antiseptic  washes 
in  the  course  of  the  day,  for  every  native  on  board  was 
afflicted  with  malignant  ulcers  of  one  sort  or  another. 

As  the  Aria  drew  in  to  an  anchorage  in  the  midst  of 
mangrove  swamps,  a  double  row  of  barbed  wire  was 
stretched  around  above  her  rail.  That  looked  like  business 
and  when  Bertie  saw  the  shore  canoes  alongside,  armed 
with  spears,  bows  and  arrows,  and  Sniders,  he  wished 
more  earnestly  than  ever  that  the  cruise  was  over. 

That  evening  the  natives  were  slow  in  leaving  the 
ship  at  sundown.  A  number  of  them  checked  the  mate 
when  he  ordered  them  ashore. 

"Never  mind,  I'll  fix  them,"  said  Captain  Hansen, 
diving  below. 

When  he  came  back,  he  showed  Bertie  a  stick  of  dyna- 
mite attached  to  a  fish-hook.  Now  it  happens  that  a 
paper-wrapped  bottle  of  chlorodyne  with  a  piece  of  harm- 
less fuse  projecting  can  fool  anybody.  It  fooled  Bertie, 
and  it  fooled  the  natives.  When  Captain  Hansen  lighted 
the  fuse  and  hooked  the  fish-hook  into  the  tail-end  of  a 
native's  loin-cloth,  that  native  was  smitten  with  so  ardent 
a  desire  for  the  shore  that  he  forgot  to  shed  the  loin- 
cloth. He  started  for'ard,  the  fuse  sizzling  and  splut- 
tering at  his  rear,  the  natives  in  his  path  taking  headers 
over  the  barbed  wire  at  every  jump.  Bertie  was  horror- 
stricken.  So  was  Captain  Hansen.  He  had  forgotten 
his  twenty-five  recruits,  on  each  of  which  he  had  paid 


THE  TERRIBLE  SOLOMONS  317 

thirty  shillings  advance.  They  went  over  the  side  along 
with  the  shore-dwelling  folk  and  followed  by  him  who 
trailed  the  sizzling  chlorodyne  bottle. 

Bertie  did  not  see  the  bottle  go  off;  but  the  mate  op- 
portunely discharging  a  stick  of  real  dynamite  aft  where 
it  would  harm  nobody,  Bertie  would  have  sworn  in  any 
admiralty  court  to  a  nigger  blown  to  flinders. 

The  flight  of  the  twenty-five  recruits  had  actually  cost 
the  Aria  forty  pounds,  and,  since  they  had  taken  to  the 
bush,  there  was  no  hope  of  recovering  them.  The  skipper 
and  his  mate  proceeded  to  drown  their  sorrow  in  cold 
tea.  The  cold  tea  was  in  whiskey  bottles,  so  Bertie  did 
not  know  it  was  cold  tea  they  were  mopping  up.  All  he 
knew  was  that  the  two  men  got  very  drunk  and  argued 
eloquently  and  at  length  as  to  whether  the  exploded 
nigger  should  be  reported  as  a  case  of  dysentery  or  as 
an  accidental  drowning.  When  they  snored  off  to  sleep, 
he  was  the  only  white  man  left,  and  he  kept  a  perilous 
watch  till  dawn,  in  fear  of  an  attack  from  shore  and  an 
uprising  of  the  crew. 

Three  more  days  the  Aria  spent  on  the  coast,  and  three 
more  nights  the  skipper  and  the  mate  drank  overfondly 
of  cold  tea,  leaving  Bertie  to  keep  watch.  They  knew 
he  could  be  depended  upon,  while  he  was  equally  certain 
that  if  he  lived,  he  would  report  their  drunken  conduct 
to  Captain  Malu.  Then  the  Aria  dropped  anchor  at 
Reminge  Plantation,  on  Guadalcanar,  and  Bertie  landed 
on  the  beach  with  a  sigh  of  relief  and  shook  hands  with 
the  manager.  Mr.  Harriwell  was  ready  for  him. 

"Now  you  mustn't  be  alarmed  if  some  of  our  fellows 
seem  downcast,"  Mr.  Harriwell  said,  having  drawn  him 
aside  in  confidence.  There's  been  talk  of  an  outbreak, 
and  two  or  three  suspicious  signs  I'm  willing  to  admit, 
but  personally  I  think  it's  all  poppycock." 


3 1 8  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

uHow —  how  many  blacks  have  you  on  the  planta- 
tion?" Bertie  asked,  with  a  sinking  heart. 

"We're  working  four  hundred  just  now,"  replied  Mr. 
Harriwell,  cheerfully;  "but  the  three  of  us,  with  you,  of 
course,  and  the  skipper  and  mate  of  the  Aria,  can  handle 
them  all  right." 

Bertie  turned  to  meet  one  McTavish,  the  storekeeper, 
who  scarcely  acknowledged  the  introduction,  such  was 
his  eagerness  to  present  his  resignation. 

"'It  being  that  I'm  a  married  man,  Mr.  Harriwell,  I 
can't  very  well  afford  to  remain  on  longer.  Trouble  is 
working  up,  as  plain  as  the  nose  on  your  face.  The 
niggers  are  going  to  break  out,  and  there'll  be  another 
Hohono  horror  here.'" 

"What's  a  Hohono  horror?"  Bertie  asked,  after  the 
storekeeper  had  been  persuaded  to  remain  until  the  end 
of  the  month." 

"Oh,  he  means  Hohono  Plantation,  on  Ysabel,"  said 
the  manager.  "The  niggers  killed  the  five  white  men 
ashore,  captured  the  schooner,  killed  the  captain  and  mate, 
and  escaped  in  a  body  to  Malaita.  But  I  always  said  they 
were  careless  on  Hohono.  They  won't  catch  us  napping 
here.  Come  along,  Mr.  Arkwright,  and  see  our  view 
from  the  veranda." 

Bertie  was  too  busy  wondering  how  he  could  get  away 
to  Tulagi  to  the  Commissioner's  house,  to  see  much  of 
the  view.  He  was  still  wondering,  when  a  rifle  exploded 
very  near  to  him  behind  his  back.  At  the  same  moment 
his  arm  was  nearly  dislocated,  so  eagerly  did  Mr.  Harri- 
well drag  him  indoors. 

"I  say,  old  man,  that  was  a  close  shave,"  said  the 
manager,  pawing  him  over  to  see  if  he  had  been  hit. 
"I  can't  tell  you  how  sorry  I  am.  But  it  was  broad  day- 
light, and  I  never  dreamed." 

Bertie  was  beginning  to  turn  pale. 


THE  TERRIBLE  SOLOMONS  319 

"They  got  the  other  manager  that  way,"  McTavish 
vouchsafed.  uAnd  a  dashed  fine  chap  he  was.  Blew  his 
brains  out  all  over  the  veranda.  You  noticed  that  dark 
stain  there  between  the  steps  and  the  door?" 

Bertie  was  ripe  for  the  cocktail  which  Mr.  Harriwell 
pitched  in  and  compounded  for  him ;  but  before  he  could 
drink  it,  a  man  in  riding  trousers  and  puttees  entered. 

"What's  the  matter  now?"  the  manager  asked,  after 
one  look  at  the  newcomer's  face.  "Is  the  river  up  again?" 

"River  be  blowed — it's  the  niggers.  Stepped  out  of 
the  cane-grass  not  a  dozen  feet  away,  and  whopped  at 
me.  It  was  a  Snider,  and  he  shot  from  the  hip.  Now 
what  I  want  to  know  is  where'd  he  get  the  Snider?  Oh, 
I  beg  your  pardon.  Glad  to  know  you,  Mr.  Arkwright." 

"Mr.  Brown  is  my  assistant,"  explained  Mr.  Harriwell. 
"And  now  let's  have  that  drink." 

"But  where'd  he  get  that  Snider?"  Mr.  Brown  in- 
sisted. "I  always  objected  to  keeping  those  guns  on  the 
premises?" 

"They're  still  there,"  Mr.  Harriwell  said,  with  a  show 
of  heat. 

Mr.  Brown  smiled  increduously. 

"Come  along  and  see,"  said  the  manager. 

Bertie  joined  the  procession  into  the  office,  where  Mr. 
Harriwell  pointed  triumphantly  at  a  big  packing-case  in 
a  dusty  corner. 

"Well,  then,  where  did  the  beggar  get  that  Snider?" 
harped  Mr.  Brown. 

But  just  then  McTavish  lifted  the  packing-case.  The 
manager  started  then  tore  off  the  lid.  The  case  was 
empty.  They  gazed  at  one  another  in  horrified  silence. 
Harriwell  dropped  wearily. 

Then  McVeigh  cursed. 

"What  I  contended  all  along — the  house-boys  are  not 
to  be  trusted." 


320  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

"It  does  look  serious,"  Harriwell  admitted,  "but  we'll 
come  through  it  all  right.  What  the  sanguinary  niggers 
need  is  a  shaking  up.  Will  you  gentlemen  please  bring 
your  rifles  to  dinner,  and  will  you,  Mr.  Brown,  kindly 
prepare  forty  or  fifty  sticks  of  dynamite.  Make  the  fuses 
good  and  short.  We'll  give  them  a  lesson.  And  now, 
gentlemen,  dinner  is  served." 

One  thing  that  Bertie  detested  was  rice  and  curry,  so 
it  happened  that  he  alone  partook  of  an  inviting  omelet. 
He  had  quite  finished  his  plate,  when  Harriwell  helped 
himself  to  the  omelet.  One  mouthful  he  tasted,  then  spat 
out  vociferously. 

"That's  the  second  time,"  McTavish  announced  omi- 
nously. 

Harriwell  was  still  hawking  and  spitting. 

"  Second  time,  what?"  Bertie  quavered. 

"  Poison,"  was  the  answer.  "  That  cook  will  be 
hanged  yet." 

"  That's  the  way  the  bookkeeper  went  out  at  Cape 
Marsh,"  Brown  spoke  up.  "  Died  horribly.  They  said 
on  the  Jessie  that  they  heard  him  screaming  three  miles 
away." 

"  I'll  put  the  cook  in  irons,"  sputtered  Harriwell. 
"  Fortunately  we  discovered  it  in  time." 

Bertie  sat  paralysed.  There  was  no  color  in  his  face. 
He  attempted  to  speak,  but  only  an  inarticulate  gurgle 
resulted.  All  eyed  him  anxiously. 

"  Don't  say  it,  don't  say  it,"  McTavish  cried  in  a  tense 
voice. 

"  Yes,  I  ate  it,  plenty  of  it,  a  whole  plateful!"  Bertie 
cried  explosively,  like  a  diver  suddenly  regaining  breath. 

The  awful  silence  continued  half  a  minute  longer,  and 
he  read  his  fate  in  their  eyes. 

"  Maybe  it  wasn't  poison  after  all,"  said  Harriwell, 
dismally. 


THE  TERRIBLE  SOLOMONS  321 

"  Call  in  the  cook,"  said  Brown. 

In  came  the  cook,  a  grinning  black  boy,  nose-spiked 
and  ear-plugged. 

"  Here,  you,  Wi-wi,  what  name  that?"  Harriwell  bel- 
lowed, pointing  accusingly  at  the  omelet. 

Wi-wi  was  very  naturally  frightened  and  embarrassed. 

"  Him  good  fella  kai-kai,"  he  murmured  apologetically. 

"  Make  him  eat  it,"  suggested  McTavish.  "  That's  a 
proper  test." 

Harriwell  filled  a  spoon  with  the  stuff  and  jumped  for 
the  cook,  who  fled  in  panic. 

'  That  settles  it,"  was  Brown's  solemn  pronouncement. 
"  He  won't  eat  it." 

"  Mr.  Brown,  will  you  please  go  and  put  the  irons  on 
him?"  Harriwell  turned  cheerfully  to  Bertie.  "  It's  all 
right,  old  man,  the  Commissioner  will  deal  with  him, 
and  if  you  die,  depend  upon  it,  he  will  be  hanged." 

"  Don't  think  the  government'll  do  it,"  objected  Mc- 
Tavish. 

"  But  gentlemen,  gentlemen,"  Bertie  cried.  "  In  the 
meantime  think  of  me." 

Harriwell  shrugged  his  shoulders  pityingly. 

"  Sorry,  old  man,  but  it's  a  native  poison,  and  there 
are  no  known  antidotes  for  native  poisons.  Try  and  com- 
pose yourself,  and  if " 

Two  sharp  reports  of  a  rifle  from  without,  inter- 
rupted the  discourse,  and  Brown,  entering,  reloaded  his 
rifle  and  sat  down  to  table. 

"  The  cook's  dead,"  he  said.  "  Fever.  A  rather  sud- 
den attack." 

"  I  was  just  telling  Mr.  Arkwright  that  there  are  no 
antidotes  for  native  poisons " 

"  Except  gin,"   said  Brown. 

Harriwell  called  himself  an  absent-minded  idiot  and 
rushed  for  the  gin  bottle. 


322  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

"  Neat,  man,  neat,"  he  warned  Bertie,  who  gulped 
down  a  tumbler  two-thirds  full  of  the  raw  spirits,  and 
coughed  and  choked  from  the  angry  bite  of  it  till  the 
tears  ran  down  his  cheeks. 

Harriwell  took  his  pulse  and  temperature,  made  a  show 
of  looking  out  for  him,  and  doubted  that  the  omelet 
had  been  poisoned.  Brown  and  McTavish  also  doubted; 
but  Bertie  discerned  an  insincere  ring  in  their  voices.  His 
appetite  had  left  him,  and  he  took  his  own  pulse  stealthily 
under  the  table.  There  was  no  question  but  what  it 
was  increasing,  but  he  failed  to  ascribe  it  to  the  gin  he 
had  taken.  McTavish,  rifle  in  hand,  went  out  on  the 
veranda  to  reconnoitre. 

"They're  massing  up  at  the  cook-house,"  was  his  re- 
port. "  And  they've  no  end  of  Sniders.  My  idea  is  to 
sneak  around  on  the  other  side  and  take  them  in  flank. 
Strike  the  first  blow,  you  know.  Will  you  come  along, 
Brown?" 

Harriwell  ate  on  steadily,  while  Bertie  discovered  that 
his  pulse  had  leaped  up  five  beats.  Nevertheless,  he 
could  not  help  jumping  when  the  rifles  began  to  go  off. 
Above  the  scattering  of  Sniders  could  be  heard  the  pump- 
ing of  Brown's  and  McTavish's  Winchesters — all  against 
a  background  of  demoniacal  screeching  and  yelling. 

"  They've  got  them  on  the  run,"  Harriwell  remarked, 
as  voices  and  gunshots  faded  away  in  the  distance. 

Scarcely  were  Brown  and  McTavish  back  at  the  table 
when  the  latter  reconnoitred. 

"They've  got  dynamite,"  he  said. 

"  Then  let's  charge  them  with  dynamite,"  Harriwell 
proposed. 

Thrusting  half  a  dozen  sticks  each  into  their  pockets 
and  equipping  themselves  with  lighted  cigars,  they  started 
for  the  door.  And  just  then  it  happened.  They  blamed 
McTavish  for  it  afterward,  and  he  admitted  that  the 


THE  TERRIBLE  SOLOMONS  323 

charge  had  been  a  trifle  excessive.  But  at  any  rate  it 
went  off  under  the  house,  which  lifted  up  corner-wise 
and  settled  back  on  its  foundations.  Half  the  china  on 
the  table  was  shattered,  while  the  eight-day  clock  stopped. 
Yelling  for  vengeance,  the  three  men  rushed  out  into 
the  night,  and  the  bombardment  began. 

When  they  returned,  there  was  no  Bertie.  He  had 
dragged  himself  away  to  the  office,  barricaded  himself 
in,  and  sunk  upon  the  floor  in  a  gin-soaked  nightmare, 
wherein  he  died  a  thousand  deaths  while  the  valorous 
fight  went  on  around  him.  In  the  morning,  sick  and 
headachy  from  the  gin,  he  crawled  out  to  find  the  sun 
still  in  the  sky  and  God  presumably  in  heaven,  for  his 
hosts  were  alive  and  uninjured. 

Harriwell  pressed  him  to  stay  on  longer,  but  Bertie 
insisted  on  sailing  immediately  on  the  Aria  for  Tulagi, 
where,  until  the  following  steamer  day,  he  stuck  close 
by  the  Commissioner's  house.  There  were  lady  tour- 
ists on  the  outgoing  steamer,  and  Bertie  was  again  a 
hero,  while  Captain  Malu,  as  usual,  passed  unnoticed. 
But  Captain  Malu  sent  back  from  Sydney  two  cases  of 
the  best  Scotch  whiskey  on  the  market,  for  he  was  not 
able  to  make  up  his  mind  as  to  whether  it  was  Captain 
Hansen  or  Mr.  Harriwell  who  had  given  Bertie  Ark- 
wright  the  more  gorgeous  insight  into  life  in  the 
Solomons. 


EL  DORADO 

From  "A  Tarpaulin  Muster,"  BY  JOHN  MASEFIELD 

THE  night  had  fallen  over  the  harbour  before  the 
winch  began  to  rattle.  The  stars  came  out,  calm 
and  golden,  shaking  little  tracks  in  the  sea.  In 
the  tiers  of  ships  shone  the  riding-lights.  To  the  west- 
ward, where  the  Point  jutted  out,  the  great  golden  light 
of  Negra  winked  and  glimmered  as  it  revolved.  It  was 
a  beat  continually,  like  the  marching  of  an  army,  along 
the  line  of  the  coast.  In  one  of  the  tiers  of  ships  there 
was  a  sing-song.  A  crew  had  gathered  on  the  fore- 
castle head,  to  beat  their  pannikins  to  the  stars.  The 
words  of  their  song  floated  out  into  the  darkness,  full  of 
a  haunting  beauty  which  thrilled  and  satisfied  me.  There 
was  something  in  the  night,  in  the  air,  in  the  beauty  of 
the  town,  and  in  the  sweetness  of  the  sailors'  singing, 
which  made  me  sorry  to  be  leaving.  I  should  have  liked 
to  have  gone  ashore  again,  to  the  Calle  del  Inca,  where 
the  cafes  and  taverns  stood.  I  should  have  liked  to  have 
seen  those  stately  pale  women,  in  their  black  robes,  with 
the  scarlet  roses  in  their  hair,  swaying  slowly  on  the  stage 
to  the  clicking  of  the  castenets.  I  should  have  liked  to 
have  taken  part  in  another  wild  dance  among  the  tables 
of  the  wine  shops.  I  was  sorry  to  be  leaving. 

When  the  winch  began  to  clank,  as  the  cable  was  hove 
in,  I  gathered  up  my  lead-line,  and  went  to  the  leadsman's 
dicky,  or  litle  projecting  platform,  on  the  starboard  side. 
I  was  to  be  the  leadsman  that  night,  and  as  we  should 
soon  be  moving,  I  made  the  breast-rope  secure,  and  stood 
by. 

Presently  the  bell  of  the  engine-room  clanged,   and 

324 


EL  DORADO  325 

there  came  a  wash  abaft  as  the  screws  thrashed.  The 
ship  trembled,  as  the  turbulent  trampling  of  the  engines 
shook  her.  The  bell  clanged  again;  the  water  below 
me  gleamed  and  whitened;  the  dark  body  of  the  steamer, 
with  her  lines  of  lit  ports,  swept  slowly  across  the  lights 
in  the  harbour.  The  trampling  of  the  engines  steadied, 
and  took  to  itself  a  rhythm.  We  were  off.  I  cast  an 
eye  astern  at  the  little  town  I  was  so  sad  to  leave,  and 
caught  a  glimpse  of  a  path  of  churned  water,  broaden- 
ing astern  of  us.  A  voice  sounded  from  the  promenade 
deck  behind  me.  "  Zat  light,  what  you  call  'eem?" 

I  could  not  answer.  My  orders  were  to  keep  strict 
silence.  The  point  of  an  umbrella  took  me  sharply  be- 
low the  shoulders.  "What  you  call  'eem  —  zat  light? 
Ze  light  zere?" 

I  wondered  if  I  could  swing  my  lead  on  to  him;  it  was 
worth  trying.  Again  came  the  umbrella;  and  again  the 
bell  of  the  engine-room  clanged. 

"  Are  you  ready  there  with  the  lead?  "  came  the  mate's 
voice  above  me.  "  All  ready  with  the  lead,  sir."  "What 
have  we  now?"  I  gathered  forward  and  swung  the  lead. 
I  could  not  reach  the  umbrella-man,  even  with  my  spare 
line.  Once,  twice,  thrice  I  swung,  and  pitched  the  plum- 
met well  forward  into  the  bow  wash. 

"  By  the  deep,  eight,  sir." 

Again  the  bell  clanged;  the  ship  seemed  to  tremble 
and  stop.  "  Another  cast  now,  quickly."  "  And  a  half, 
seven,  sir."  As  I  hauled  in,  I  again  tasted  the  um- 
brella, and  another  question  came  to  me:  'What  'ave 
you  do?  Why  'ave  you  do  zat?"  I  swore  under  my 
breath.  "  Are  you  asleep  there  leadsman?  "  The  mate 
was  biting  his  finger-ends.  I  sent  the  lead  viciously  into 
the  sea.  "  Quarter  less  seven,  sir."  "  Another  cast, 
smartly,  now."  Rapidly  I  hauled  in,  humming  an  old 
ballad  to  myself.  "We'll  have  the  ship  ashore,"  I  re- 


326  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

peated.  There  was  a  step  on  the  deck  behind  me,  and 
again  came  the  voice,  "Ze  man,  ze  man  zere  what  'ave  he 
do?  Why  'ave  'e  go  like  so?"  "Won't  you  pass  further 
aft,  sir?"  said  a  suave  voice.  "You're  interrup'in'  the 
leadsman."  It  was  one  of  the  quartermasters.  Once 
again  the  lead  flew  forward.  "By  the  mark,  seven,  sir." 

There  was  a  pause;  then  came  the  voice  again.  "I  go 
zees  way,"  said  the  quartermaster.  The  steps  of  the 
umbrella-man  passed  away  aft.  "Zees  way,"  said  the 
quartermaster,  under  his  breath,  "zees  way!  You  gaw- 
dem  Dago !"  I  could  have  hugged  the  fellow. 

"What  now?"  said  the  old  man,  leaning  over  from 
the  bridge.  I  cast  again.  "  And  a  half,  eight,  sir." 

"  We're  clear,"  said  the  voice  above  me.  "  Speed 
ahead,  Mr.  Jenkins."  I  gathered  up  my  line.  The 
engine-room  bell  clanged  once  more;  the  ship  seemed  to 
leap  suddenly  forward.  In  a  few  seconds,  even  as  I 
coiled  my  line,  the  bow  wash  broadened  to  a  roaring 
water.  The  white  of  it  glimmered  and  boiled,  and  spun 
away  from  us  streaked  with  fires.  Across  the  stars  above 
us  the  mists  from  the  smoke-stack  stretched  in  a  broad 
cloud.  Below  me  the  engines  trampled  thunderously. 
Ahead  there  were  the  lights,  and  the  figure  of  the  look- 
out, and  the  rush  and  hurry  of  the  water.  Astern,  far 
astern  already,  were  the  port,  the  ships  at  anchor,  and 
the  winking  light  on  the  Point.  A  bugle  abaft  called  the 
passengers  to  dinner,  and  I  watched  them  as  they  went 
from  their  cabins.  A  lady,  in  blue  gown,  with  a  shawl 
round  her  head,  was  talking  to  a  man  in  evening  dress. 
"  Isn't  it  interesting,"  she  remarked,  "  to  hear  them 
making  the  soundings?"  The  white  shirt  was  politely 
non-committal.  "  Aft  there,  two  of  you,"  said  a  hard 
voice,  "  and  trice  the  ladder  up.  Smartly  now."  The 
lady  in  the  blue  dress  stopped  to  watch  us. 

I  did  not  see  the  umbrella-man  again  until  the  next  day, 


EL  DORADO  327 

when  I  passed  him  on  the  hurricane  deck.  He  was  look- 
ing at  the  coast  through  a  pair  of  binoculars.  We  were 
running  to  the  north,  in  perfect  Pacific  weather,  under 
a  soft  blue  sky  that  was  patrolled  by  little  soft  white 
clouds.  The  land  lay  broad  to  starboard,  a  land  of  yel- 
low hills  with  surf-beaten  outliers  of  black  reef.  Here 
and  there  we  passed  villages  in  the  watered  valleys,  each 
with  its  whitewashed  church  and  copper  smeltry.  The 
umbrella-man  was  looking  beyond  these,  at  the  hills. 

He  was  a  little  man,  this  man  who  had  prodded  me, 
with  a  long,  pale  face  and  pale  eyes,  a  long  reddish 
beard,  and  hair  rather  darker,  both  hair  and  beard  be- 
ing sparse.  He  was  a  fidgety  person,  always  twitching 
with  his  hands,  and  he  walked  with  something  of  a  strut, 
as  though  the  earth  belonged  to  him.  He  snapped-to 
the  case  of  his  binoculars  as  though  he  had  sheathed  a 
sword. 

Later  in  the  day,  after  supper,  in  the  second  dog- 
watch, as  I  sat  smoking  on  the  fore-coamings,  he  came 
up  to  me  and  spoke  to  me.  "You  know  zees  coas'  ?"  he 
asked.  Yes,  I  knew  the  coast.  "What  you  zink?"  de 
asked ;  "you  like  'eem  ?"  No,  I  didn't  like  'eem.  "Ah," 
he  said,  "You  'ave  been  wizzin?"  I  asked  him  what  he 
meant.  "Wizzin,"  he  repeated,  "wizzen,  in  ze  contry. 
You  'ave  know  ze  land,  ze  peoples?"  I  growled  that  I 
had  been  within,  to  Lima,  and  to  Santiago,  and  that  I  had 
been  ashore  at  the  Chincha  Islands.  "Ah,"  he  said, 
with  a  strange  quickening  of  interest,  "you  'ave  been  to 
Lima;  you  like  'eem?"  No,  I  had  not.  "I  go  wizzen," 
he  said  proudly.  "It  is  because  I  go;  zat  is  why  I  ask. 
Zere  is  few  'ave  gone  wizzen."  An  old  quartermaster 
walked  up  to  us.  "There's  very  few  come  back,  sir," 

he  said.  "Them  Indians "  "Ah,  ze  Indians,"  said 

the  little  man  scornfully,  "ze  Indians;  I  zeenk  nozzin  of 
ze  Indians."  "Beg  pardon,  sir,"  said  the  old  sailor, 


328  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

"They're  a  tough  crowd,  them  copper  fellers."  "I  no 
understan' ;"  said  the  Frenchman.  "They  pickle  peo- 
ple's heads,"  said  the  old  sailor,  "in  the  sand  or  some- 
thin'.  They  keep  for  ever  pretty  near  when  once  they're 
pickled.  They  pickle  every  one's  head  and  sell  'em  in 
Lima :  I've  knowed  'em  get  a  matter  of  three  pound  for 
a  good  head."  "Heads?"  said  another  sailor.  "I  had 
one  myself  once.  I  got  it  at  Tacna,  but  it  wasn't  prop- 
erly pickled  or  something it  was  a  red-headed  beg- 
gar the  chap  as  owned  it I  had  to  throw  it  away. 

It  got  too  strong  for  the  crowd,"  he  explained.  "Ah 
zose  Indians,"  said  the  Frenchman.  "I  'ave  'card;  zey 
tell  me,  zey  tell  me  at  Valparaiso.  But  ah,  it  ees  a  fool; 
it  ees  a  fool;  zere  is  no  Indians."  uBeg  pardon,  sir," 
said  the  old  sailor,  "but  if  you  go  up  among  them  jokers, 
you'll  have  to  look  slippy  with  a  gun,  sir,"  "Ah,  a  gon," 
he  answered,  "a  gon.  I  was  not  to  be  bozzered  wiz  a 
gon.  I  'ave  what  you  call  'eem peestol."  He  pro- 
duced a  boy's  derringer,  which  might  have  cost  about 
ten  dollars,  Spanish  dollars,  in  the  pawnshops  of  San- 
tiago. "Peestol,"  murmured  a  sailor,  gasping,  as  he 
shambled  forward  to  laugh,  "peestol,  the  gawdem  Dago's 
balmy." 

During  the  next  few  days  I  saw  the  Frenchman  fre- 
quently. He  was  a  wonder  to  us,  and  his  plans  were 
discussed  at  every  meal,  and  in  every  watch  below.  In 
the  dog-watches  he  would  come  forward,  with  his  eter- 
nal questions:  "What  is  wizzin?  In  ze  contry?"  We 
would  tell  him,  "Indians,  or  highwaymen,"  or  "a  push 
of  highbinders;"  and  he  would  answer:  "It  ees  nozzin, 
it  ees  a  fool."  Once  he  asked  us  if  we  had  heard  of 
any  gold  being  found  "wizzen."  "Gold?"  said  one  of 
us.  "Gold?  O'  course  there's  gold,  any  God's  quan- 
tity. Them  Incas  ate  gold;  they're  buried  in  it."  '  'Ave 
you  know  zem,  ze  Incas?  he  asked  eagerly.  "I  seen 


EL  DORADO  329 

a  tomb  of  theirs  once,"  said  the  sailor;  "it  were  in  a  cove, 
like  the  fo'c'sle  yonder,  and  full  of  knittin'-needles." 
"What  is  zem?"  said  the  Frenchman.  The  sailor  sham- 
bled below  to  his  chest,  and  returned  with  a  handful  of 
little  sticks  round  which  some  balls  of  coloured  threads 
were  bound.  "Knittin'-needles,"  said  the  sailor.  "Them 
ain't  no  knittin'-needles.  Writin'?  How  could  them  be 
writin'?  "Well,  I  heard  tell  once."  replied  the  other. 
"It  ees  zeir  way  of  writing,"  said  the  Frenchman;  "I  'ave 
seen;  zat  is  zeir  way  of  writing;  ze  knots  is  zeir  letters." 
"Bleedin'  funny  letters,  I  call  'em,"  said  the  needles-the- 
orist. "You  and  your  needles,"  said  the  other.  "Now, 
what  d'ye  call  'em?"  The  bell  upon  the  bridge  clanged. 
"Eight  bells,"  said  the  company;  "aft  to  muster,  boys." 
The  bugle  at  the  saloon-door  announced  supper. 

We  were  getting  pretty  well  to  the  north Mol- 

lendo,  or  thereabouts when  I  had  my  last  conversa- 
tion with  the  Frenchman.  He  came  up  to  me  one  night, 
as  I  sat  on  the  deck  to  leeward  of  the  winch,  keeping  the 
first  watch  as  snugly  as  I  could.  "You  know  zees  coast 
long?"  he  asked.  I  had  not.  Then  came  the  never- 
ceasing,  "'Ave  you  know  of  ze  Incas?"  Yes,  lot  of 
general  talk;  and  I  had  seen  Incas  curios,  mostly  earth- 
ware,  in  every  port  in  Peru.  "You  'ave  seen  gold?" 
No;  there  was  never  any  gold.  The  Spaniards  made  a 
pretty  general  average  of  any  gold  there  was.  "It  ees 
a  fool,"  he  answered.  "I  tell  you,"  he  went  on,  "it  ees 
a  fool.  Zay  have  say  zat;  zey  'ave  all  say  zat;  it  ees  a 
fool.  Zere  is  gold.  Zere  is  a  hundred  million  pounds; 
zere  is  twenty  tousan'  million  dollars;  zere  is  El  Dorado. 
Beyond  ze  mountains  zere  is  El  Dorado;  zere  is  a  town 
of  gold.  Zay  say  zere  is  no  gold?  Zere  is.  I  go  to 
find  ze  gold;  zat  is  what  I  do;  I  fin'  ze  gold,  I,  Paul  Bac." 
"Alone?"  I  asked.  "I,  Paul  Bac,"  he  answered. 

I  looked  at  him  a  moment.     He  was  a  little  red-haired 


330  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

man,  slightly  made,  but  alert  and  active-looking.  He 
knew  no  Spanish,  no  Indian  dialects,  and  he  had  no  com- 
rade. I  told  him  that  I  thought  he  didn't  know  what  he 
was  doing.  "Ha!"  he  said.  "Listen:  I  go  to  Payta; 
I  go  by  train  to  Chito;  zen  I  reach  ze  Morona  River; 
from  zere  I  reach  Marinha.  Listen:  El  Dorado  is  be- 
tween ze  Caqueta  and  ze  Putumayo  Rivers,  in  ze  forest." 
I  would  have  asked  him  how  he  knew,  but  I  had  to  break 
away  to  relieve  the  lookout.  I  wished  the  little  man 
good  night;  I  never  spoke  with  him  again. 

I  thought  of  him  all  that  watch,  as  I  kept  scanning  the 
seas.  I  should  be  going  up  and  down,  I  thought,  land- 
ing passengers  through  surf,  or  swaying  bananas  out  of 
launches,  or  crying  the  sounds  as  we  came  to  moorings. 
He  would  be  going  on  under  the  stars,  full  of  unquench- 
able hope,  stumbling  on  the  bones  of  kings.  He  would 
be  wading  across  bogs,  through  rivers  and  swamps, 
through  unutterable  and  deathly  places,  singing  some 
songs,  and  thinking  of  the  golden  city.  He  was  a  pil- 
grim, a  poet,  a  person  to  reverence.  And  if  he  got 

there,  if  he  found  El  Dorado but  that  was  absurd. 

I  thought  of  him  sadly,  with  the  feeling  that  he  had 
learned  how  to  live,  and  that  he  would  die  by  applying 
his  knowledge.  I  wondered  how  he  would  die.  He 
would  be  alone  there,  in  the  tangle,  stumbling  across 
creepers.  The  poisoned  blow-pipe,  such  as  I  had  seen 
from  the  long,  polished  blow-pipe,  such  as  I  had  seen 
in  the  museums.  He  would  fall  on  his  face,  among  the 
jungle.  Then  the  silent  Indian  would  hack  off  his  head 
with  a  flint,  and  pickle  it  for  the  Lima  markets.  He 
would  never  get  to  the  Caqueta.  Or  perhaps  he  would 
be  caught  in  an  electric  storm,  an  aire,  as  they  call  them, 
and  be  stricken  down  among  the  hills  on  his  way  to  Chito. 
More  probably  he  would  die  of  hunger  or  thirst,  as  so 
many  had  died  before  him.  I  remembered  a  cowboy 


EL  DORADO  331 

whom  I  had  found  under  a  thorn  bush  in  the  Argentine. 
Paul  Bac  would  be  like  that  cowboy;  he  would  run  short 
of  water,  and  kill  his  horse  for  the  blood,  and  then  go 
mad  and  die. 

I  was  in  my  bunk  when  he  went  ashore  at  Payta,  but 
a  fellow  in  the  other  watch  told  me  how  he  left  the  ship. 
There  was  a  discussion  in  the  forecastle  that  night  as 
to  the  way  the  heads  were  prepared.  Some  said  it  was 
sand;  some  said  it  was  the  leaf  of  the  puro  bush;  one 
or  two  held  out  for  a  mixture  of  pepper  and  nitrate. 
One  man  speculated  as  to  the  probable  price  the  head 
would  fetch;  and  the  general  vote  was  for  two  pounds, 
or  two  pounds  ten.  "It  wouldn't  give  me  no  pleasure," 
said  one  of  us,  "to  have  that  ginger-nob  in  my  chest." 
"Nor  me,  it  wouldn't,"  said  another;  "I  draw  the  line  at 
having  a  corpse  on  my  tobacker."  "And  I  do,"  said  sev- 
eral. Clearly  the  Frenchman  was  destined  for  a  town 
museum. 

It  was  more  than  a  year  after  that  I  heard  of  the  end 
of  the  El  Dorado  hunter.  I  was  in  New  York  when  I 
heard  it,  serving  behind  the  bar  of  a  saloon.  One  eve- 
ning, as  I  was  mixing  cocktails,  I  heard  myself  hailed  by 
a  customer;  and  there  was  Billy  Neeld,  one  of  our  quar- 
termasters, just  come  ashore  from  an  Atlantic  Transport 
boat.  We  had  a  drink  together,  and  yarned  of  old 
times.  The  names  of  our  old  shipmates  were  like  incan- 
tations. The  breathing  of  them  brought  the  past  be- 
fore us;  the  past  which  was  so  recent,  yet  so  far  away; 
the  past  which  is  so  dear  to  a  sailor  and  so  depressing 
to  a  landsman.  So  and  so  was  dead,  and  Jimmy  had 
gone  among  the  Islands,  and  Dick  had  pulled  out  for 
home  because  "he  couldn't  stick  that  Mr.  Jenkins."  Very 
few  of  them  remained  on  the  Coast;  the  brothers  of  the 
Coast  are  a  shifty  crowd. 

"D'ye  remember  the  Frenchman,"  I  asked,  "the  man 


332  GREAT  SEA  STORIES 

who  was  always  asking  about  the  Incas?"  uThe  ginger- 
headed  feller  ?"  "Yes,  a  little  fellow."  "A  red-headed, 
ambitious  little  runt?  I  remember  him,1'  said  Billy;  uhe 
left  us  at  Payta,  the  time  we  fouled  the  launch,"  "That's 
the  man,"  I  said;  "have  you  heard  anything  of  him?" 
"Oh,  he's  dead  all  right,"  said  Billy.  "His  mother  came 
out  after  him;  there  was  a  piece  in  the  Chile  Times 
about  him."  "He  was  killed,  I  suppose?"  "Yes,  them 
Indians  got  him,  somewhere  in  Ecuador,  Tommy  Hains 
told  me.  They  got  his  head  back,  though.  It  was  be- 
ing sold  in  the  streets;  his  old  mother  offered  a  reward, 
and  the  Dagoes  got  it  back  for  her.  He's  dead  all 
right,  he  is;  he  might  ha'  known  as  much,  going  alone 
among  them  Indians.  Dead?  I  guess  he  is  dead;  none 
but  a  red-headed  runt'd  have  been  such  a  lunk  as  to  try 
it."  "He  was  an  ambitious  lad,"  I  said.  "Yes,"  said 
Billy,  "he  was.  Them  ambitious  fellers,  they  want  the 
earth,  and  they  get  their  blooming  heads  pickled;  that's 
what  they  get  by  it.  Here's  happy  days,  young  feller." 


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OV    14193 


OCT    6 


JUM   5  1946 


LD  21-100m-7,'33 


iYCI08301 


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